Saturday in her Sunday best

I am doing…okay. We went to Borough market this afternoon, and bought Clementines, figs, fancy lemonade and cola. I also bought some Japanese rice snacks, which contained a moldy peanut, which I stupidly ate because I was tipsy off a glass of red wine and had decided it couldn’t possibly be a moldy peanut. But it was a very moldy peanut.

The market was cold, dim and lovely. There were wild game hanging against the side of a stall - a pheasant and two of the largest hares I’ve ever seen. Bruce ate venison and I had some world famous quiche, or maybe just regionally famous quiche.

Bruce is going to Jordan next week for work. I’m trying not to worry too much, but I wouldn’t want to alter my personality by being completely insensate or anything. It’s got to be one or the other; I’m not so good at in betweens, as you know.

There’s nothing at all to worry about, except that it’s much harder to control events from a distance. If I know what the driver, pilot or doctor is up to, things are usually okay. Actually, if I’d written nothing about it and worn a certain bracelet, I could probably have prevented most traumatic incidents in my life.