Toast

I've just got back from Liverpool where I was examining an M.Phil. alongside the lovely Marion Leonard.
Now I am tired, but the day went well in spite of a Virgin Train scented, as usual, with Eaudor de Toilette and in spite of mishearing the train announcer at Euston reading out 'Leyton Buttocks' (that should have been Leyton Buzzard, for my international readers) (the Scottish ones!).
Jane Munro from the Au Pairs has been in touch, which has made me very happy, and I am now very much looking forward to revising the book.
I do not like writing very much, even though I have lots of ideas of things to write. It's not laziness: it's a problem with sitting still. I would rather be out doing gigs, and if I do sit still, that's for drawing.
Tomorrow will be filled with nice things: doing some sketches for the Medea comic, thinking up ideas for the Desperado Housewives magazine, listening to girl group compilations, catching up on correspondence, maybe even recording some songs; mostly, though, toastly.

A big pile of toast and a huge pot of tea
Shabby old clothes
That's the day for me.