||[Jan. 24th, 2015|05:35 pm]
...much the same as another Wednesday. But there was something about last Thursday that made me want to write about it, an actual 'this is what I did today' diary; no ent that wasn't entirely ordinary, but plenty of them.
We got up early, coaxed the boiler into life (time and past time to replace the boiler, and to do more extensive repairs on the house, and we are moving towards doing that - but in the interim, we press the reset button and the heating returns) and went to the pool. The morning was cold, but not frosty, we didn't have to scrape ice from the car, the pool was quieter than it had been on Monday, and all of these things were good.
Home to breakfast: best meal of the day - coffee strong as I like it, and plenty of it, and toast (usually my own bread, and if not, something interesting). And washing up and updating websites and doing odd jobs, all so ordinary that I can't remember what I did this particular day.
When I could, I sneaked time with my book. A fellow-member of the reading group had loaned me Ariana Franklin's Mistress of the Art of Death, which was well-timed, since I had run out of book on the train into town, and needed something for the return journey. It - well, it deserves a post of its own, but it gave something of its own particular flavour to the days through which I was reading it.
We walked down to the Town Hall for an early evening public meeting, called by our MP to brief her about some half dozen planning applications, all for new, purpose-built accommodation for students: what should she say about them to the County Council? The meeting was packed, which is good, and many people spoke well, so I hope Roberta got from it what she needed. But it was frustrating to be going through the applications one at a time, and to know that the planning process will do likewise, when the only hope of rescuing the City from predatory development would be to draw up a strategic plan for student accommodation, and the test each application against it. On the way home, durham_rambler said "I know what was the one surprise of the evening for you..." He was right; it was when a speaker from behind me introduced her contribution with the words "I'm Rosemary Cramp..." Rosemary Cramp was a legendary figure in my undergraduate days (she was Durham's first woman professor, among other things).
Since the meeting ran straight through our dinner time, we had planned to eat out, but by the time it finished, all I wanted to do was go home, take my shoes off and open a bottle of wine. So I dashed into Tesco in the Market Place (if they ever close, I haven't caught them at it) and grabbed some soup and garlic bread. While the bread was in the oven, I picked a bottle, almost at random from the cellar. I'd been thinking 'big warming red', but what I got was a Turkish red called Kalecik Karasi, and it serves me right for being in too much of a hurry to read the notes (a bouquet of cherry and redcurrant... Enjoy cellar cool) which might have warned me that this was altogether a lighter, fruitier drink than I'd had in mind - I thought pomegranate, rather than cherry, if that isn't too unspeakably trendy, and we were indeed drinking it cellar cool, and enjoying. I'd buy it again, especially in the summer.
I thought that was a day well spent, and there was nothing now but to take my book and the remains of the bottle and sit on the sofa until bedtime, but Thursday had one more thing up its sleeve: a phone call from the BoyBear, who was about to go out and buy a new computer (hooray!) and wanted to brainstorm about it beforehand.