Sudden flying visit from Charles A. yesterday. I didn't get his first phone message, so hadn't even known he was in town, and was completely befuddled. He's been doing some research at the Imperial War Museum for an interesting-sounding kids' book he's working on...I'd been in the midst of continuing my Spring-cleaning/clearout attempts, so the flat and I were both in a filthy mess. What can ya do? Anyway, he's off to the States next week, to visit some of his kids, and to Paris where one of his daughters is running the marathon, or wherever. He's having a jetbuzzy few weeks, and is knackered already. Perhaps we'll meet up again on his way back.
After he left, I joined R in the little park behind the flats where she takes the Big Dogs at the weekend. A neighbour with a Staffie was talking about a gang right in this area, that holds dogfights in vans! The RSPCA has been informed, but so far they haven't been able to catch the bastards in the act. What next?
I felt sick this morning, for some reason, and didn't even go on the cross-trainer (Bad, bad!), spending extra time in the weights room instread. Bits of me are starting to feel hard, again. Woof! It would be nice if there was some visually appreciable improvement, but I really 'should' stop being so vain, and resign myself to being a grotesque geriatric. If I can actually improve my health a bit, I've gotta be content with that. (Who am I kidding ? I want EXTREME MAKEOVER, and I want it now!)