This morning we braved the frost and freezing temperature to walk into town. Paul wanted to buy ingredients for his broccoli and Stilton soup, I wanted to buy a diary.
I know I could keep track of my life on the
computer or phone with little jingles and flags to remind me of a forthcoming
event but I’m a bit old fashioned and like to write it all down in a little
book. It means I can doodle and write
pieces of nonsense; if it’s the date for the dentist I write very, very small
and if it’s the date for the ferry to France I draw a big picture of a
boat. At a glance I can see the week’s
menus, invariably they get crossed out and changed a lot.
I bought this one in the charity shop.
It’s small enough to slip in my bag but with just enough page space for
Turkey curry for dinner tonight. That's written in my old diary. Actually, it's not.