I am sitting in the lounge. Warm light, cool breeze, quiet music playing.
My flatmate is curled up in the other arm chair reading cheesy crime fiction while I surf the internet for electric pianos and latex catsuits. We're sipping tea, and eating toast made from the fresh bread we bought at the market today.
After a bike ride along the canal we spent the afternoon at Broadway Market sitting on the curb listening to a soulful guitarist, and buying fresh fruit, veg, and chicken to roast tonight.
Boring domestic life can be nice.
(Oblique Strategy for the Day: Disciplined self-indulgence.)
05 September, 2009
Boring Domestic Life
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1 comment:
When I stroll by a guitarist, I have to stop and listen. Is he/she any good? The sound that comes out of the hole in the wood is just extraordinary. Your life sounds so much more settled now. Welcome home. =)
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