Saturday morning and I'm taking Matthew to hockey, but can't find any sign of the game. Instead, I end up explaining how due diligence works and something about why large corporations don't generally buy sovereign states. Then we bought lunch from a large corporation. The evening fades from memory. Sunday, a day with a service at the start, a meeting helping the process of finding a new vicar in the afternoon and a lamb spinach curry in the evening, and you know what that means. The end of the weekend.
Yes, it seems it is possible to summarise a weekend in just a few lines, but you miss any details. Perhaps you'll hear one example, but not many. Nothing about discovering I've made number 30 in the lj top 40, or that Viv and I looked at the science fiction and fantasy book lists lexin published and pronounced them to be -woefully inadequate-. You might not ever hear that, if I didn't type more than the bare minimum. Sometimes I type lots, sometimes not. And someone has put a battery in the bedroom clock.
The 7 58 train was four minutes late this morning, which means I caught it easily, rather than only just. Unfortunately, this means it will be overrun by people when it stops at Waterloo. In other news, I have no tie. On Thursday, I was wearing my black tie for John's funeral, with my regular tie safely in my briefcase. But on Friday, on ties at all because we were all wearing shirts to promote the final of the netball. I left my case in the office because I didn't want to take it to Jim's farewell.