Friday comes in with a pfft

So. I've still not finished writing about last weekend. This is as it should be, we are, after all, Contrary Towers.

In fact, we've received a letter of complaint that nothing has been written about or dietary, or other, escapades. There is a reason for this. We were having escapades...

Monday.

Oh yes, the highlight of the week. Clare was singing with the EC4 Choir at Guildhall and, well, it was absolutely fabulous, I would say possibly the best version of Verdi's Requiem I've heard. Mind you, as we were to find later in the week, memory is not to be trusted so how could I be sure?

The diet for the day was as it should be, cereal, can't remember what for lunch, Veuve Clicquot Yellow label for dinner and dirty sausage with mushrooms on sunflower bread when we go home to Contrary Towers. We have seemed to have a clown in tow. All most peculiar. I have to say the day rather fooled me as I was going to wear flats with the black and white dress I wore last Friday, but decided on boots instead, with a raincoat, as it was persisting it down in E14. I got to Bank and... *nothing* Dry. As. A. Bone. Pfft. Anyway, I managed to walk only three miles or so today.

Tuesday

The teams was due to split up, I was due at the Royal Institution to hear a talk on The Most Human Human, whilst the other half of the double act had an earlier talk on book collecting. Which meant I had the joy of getting home to Clare's Kitchen in full swing and a most delicious chicken soup! Which, as we know, is healthiez. Today, dietary speaking, was a good day, cereal for breakfast, a coffee and dried fruit. And I managed 5 miles worth of walking.

Wednesday. We were out again. Back to the Royal Institution for a talk about memory. Which I will, almost certainly write up soon. Probably. We left pretty sharpish as we were starving, never a good thing as the capricious one sort of implodes in to a neutron star as she becomes hungry. Trouble is... We found a gallery open for a private view, so we waltzed in.

As you do.

And I'll talk about that later too. It did get interesting, and as I was talking to the artist, the lovely Tina Tsang, I realised that I was getting the shut-up-I-need-to-eat look. Time to go! We had the remainder of the chicken soup, no winez and *no* bread, again. We are so good! And we walked. I managed, again, to do about 5 miles.

Thursday

And a split day for me, working the morning and arting the afternoon. With maybe a little light something on the evening. Food was again light, cereal, coffee with Clare, then, eventually, a steak slice from the Co-op on The Strand washed down with coffee by very washed out Embankment tube station. I did love that the bandstand had nothing but empty deckchairs, a genuine British Summer.

I'll write about the arting later, again, as I've things to say. But it was a lovely day, even if I went from having to remove my hold-ups when I was in the first gallery as I was too hot, to, later, putting them back on outside Liberty because my shoes were starting to rub, it was blowing a gale and chucking it down with rain. Yes. In the street.

I'm really classy.

Later, after a quickly beating my hair in to shape in a hotel's loos, and fixing my now tired face, I felt smart enough for a little vodka, followed, later, by a lottle champagne. Whatever they say about the nutritional value of the Contrary Towers diet, it's definitely fun!

As I marched home from Westferry DLR in the pouring rain, the last of the 6.4 miles I walked today, I reflected that, actually, it had felt like a moderately good week for the diet, but a fabulous week for, well, other things. But it was to get better. As I got in, kicked my shoes off, removed tights again, and focussed, I realised that there was a pan on the hob... My lovely, lovely flatmate had cooked something, it definitely had chicken, pearl barley, carrot and celery. Maybe potato too. Definitely thyme. She can tell you. But, OMG.

It. Was. Gorgeous.

And I told her as we sat drinking tea this morning. And catching up. It's been a busy week, and now I have to face the joy of a Friday and Saturday night away from my sanctuary. The good news is, I believe, the nearly-ex is on a diet, so maybe there will be some understanding. Though I think that diet might be more prescribed than the Contrary Towers one.

Here's hoping for a good weigh-in.