My day in Rochester has been cancelled due to the illness of my client's family. I was up and dressed and a couple of miles round the South Circular before we made that decision together on the phone. So I came home, had a cup of Starbucks, and set to some Money Gym accounting (VAT return), oh deep joy.
Then, over lunch, I thought I would treat myself to watching last night's Wallender on iPlayer before going out to the Post Office and retiring to bed with a novel. My holiday is at last kicking in. My evening (karaoke) has also been cancelled, again not by me. That ol' Universe is conspiring again.
And then Anne Walsh wrote to say how I reminded her of St Teresa of Avila. Some days are just odd, aren't they? I don't think I have ever been compared to a saint before. Here's what Anne has to say about St Teresa (and me):
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