I am sitting in the place that made me want to move here. The Picture House. Independent film with a cafe/bar that makes crepes. And... they have wireless access! So I have been taking to plunking myself into one of the low-slung, well-loved couches and spending the afternoons online, looking out the window onto St Andews Street.
News flash -- I rode the bus today, £1 25 p... I still have to look hard at the change in my hand before I can pick out what coins are what. (The dang 10p look like quarters!)
And hard to believe, but M & I have NOT gone to our local pub yet. Tonight is the night! The Brook, aptly named as it sits on Brook Road. I have to reaquire (a word?) a taste for brewskis. And make sure not to call them brewskis.
Next week is the start of Job Getting. Some part-time gig to keep us in expensive cheese and the occasional night out. Funny, NOT working is really all that it is cracked up to be. I've really really enjoyed (and not even thought of) work -- past or present. Yes, people, it is a wonderful thing to go about a few errands and explore for the day.
I am also cooking! And watching the first runs of What Not To Wear. (love them)
And making lists with M about all the things we want to do/places to see in Cambridge, London and other parts of England.
And getting ready for coaching! Been enjoying the generous offers for sample session clients and getting excited to start the process. (That is PROcess to you.)
Hearing about the final debate here... BBC has very clean coverage of all things Washington. I enjoy the unattached view, as I know I'd be ill if I was there. Let's face it -- he had HIS inner demon not on his shoulder, but square in the middle of his back, whispering.
Please send me mail. The postman comes on his bike first thing in the morning and hearing the plop of an American piece of mail is thrilling.
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