Reading
I want not to whinge, so I'll shut up now.
Steaming gently, drinking coffee in Starbucks whilst waiting for the bike hire place to open and drying off from the walk from the T. Wondering why I'm even still contemplating the ride, watching the rain drip from umbrellas. It was sluicing off the roof of Quincy Market as I walked past.
Reading: random news sites in my phone
... notes the tumbleweed in this journal. Maybe it's time to start writing again (which probably means LJ is about to close but, hey, whatever). Tumblr isn't right for writing - it makes a lovely scrapbook but the format just doesn't work for anything more than quotes. I'm not quite egotistical enough to start a wordpress or similar site for the rather random stuff I've previously put up here. So, back to LJ.
Autumn's here, with a vengeance. Hill repeats in the damp dark up Holywell Hill should win me some sort of karma. But autumn also means sweaters and a tweed jacket, which are warm and comfortable. And the hill repeats were followed by a hot shower which feels like the height of luxury when you come in cold & wet from cycling.
Work is busy, which is good after a rather quiet June/July - the bank account looks a bit less perilous as some clients have actually paid up recently. Self-employment has many benefits but does rather involve the odd sleepless night trying to figure out finances when work is slow or clients are slow to pay.
Everything else is taking a bit of a back seat - reading & knitting mixed in a little, though.
Reading: Crazy Salad - Nora Ephron
The cycling is easy, it's the stupidly early start that's giving me a sense of humour failure. I'm doing the RideLondon100 with 19,999 other cyclists (give or take a few ...) tomorrow & logistics for my set start time means leaving at 5am, so waking at 4am (I need coffee & porridge!)
Still, should be an experience - cycling through London on closed roads!
Have been rather remiss with progress here (updates on Twitter instead), but can say that Mordor was achieved yesterday. Apparently one can simply cycle into Mordor.
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Work and procrastination and so on and so forth, but I'm back on the bike. Out at dawn this morning, cycling east on the outward loop, into a gorgeous morning.
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Flight is going, the hotel has power, so it looks like I'm off to New York tomorrow. Will be interesting ...
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Work. More work. Opera (backstage, not singing). Not enough cycling. The opera was a new piece - all remarkably calm and non-meltdown in production. I loved it (doing the production. Still can't see the point of opera as an art form).
I have signed up for the Ride Across Britain (aka John O'Groats to Lands' End by bike via Every Single Hill We Can Find - judging by the elevation profile). This is in an attempt to ensure I actually get out on the bike.
Reading: client papers, to prepare skeleton argument to be filed at court by Monday pm (but will be in parts West on Monday so it actually has to be done by Monday morning). Also reading Adam Gopnik in the New Yorker.
Books bought: none today, tho' Amazon has told me that the book I ordered on Eichler some time back has been dispatched.
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Hmm. I'm actually named for Anne Elliott. And not remotely impressed by Hugh Grant (even less so when Alan Rickman is also around).