Lazy Sunday in bed, mostly. Reading papers and watching Live at the Apollo. I had looked forward the Billy Bragg's DJ spot on Q radio, but was disappointed. Didn't get the music he played, and he didn't grab me as a DJ either. Half way through, I was wishing it would finish but it seemed disloyal to turn it off. After that, I got up and listened to Billy's Australia bootleg, thus reassuring myself that he is still fab in my eyes (ears? surely). Twitter has been a source of endless dissipation, I think I should give it up.
Made roast chicken dinner, feeling a bit grumpy as the dish was still in the oven from last week, stale food welded to it as the oven had been used but not by me. Anyway, productive housework ensued and the dinner turned out well.
Holly is on half term this week. I haven't got to grips with what we might do, she's been tucked away upstairs so I haven't asked her. Maybe London for the day would be good if there's a photography exhibition. More likely though, she has plans, and so she might, she's fifteen after all.
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