Didn't sleep much last night. The neighbours were fighting again, screaming at the top of their voices and throwing things at each other. Sounded like he'd been smiling at some other bird again. She doesn't like that. Eventually he walked out and slammed the door so loudly that my one picture fell off the wall. Fortunately it didn't break. Its a lovely Constable print that I found in a rubbish bin along the nicer parts of the canal.
Decided to go for a walk again along the canal in the hope that She was at the park again. She was, sitting in the same place, feeding the birds. They are really comfortable with her – one even sat on her hand. She looks a bit like what I imagine Mother Theresa to be like: saintly, wrinkled and very kind.
Our eyes met briefly, but I was so embarrassed at being caught sizing her up that I looked away and hurried off. You would think that at 64 one might be a bit more together, right?
I decided to deviate on the way home from my normal route and walk through the back roads for a change. I don't like doing that much because some of the areas are very rough, and groups of loitering youths scare me. I hate being old. In my prime I would have knocked their bloody blocks off.
I wonder where Harry was today. I specially bought some cream for him yesterday.
Yummy left over Spag Bol for tea. Its always better on day two.
