A Blip Request

Steven popped by for a coffee this afternoon. I was supposed to be pouring concrete, but that's been delayed till tomorrow and instead I set about tidying the house while Mel slept on in bed ill. I had been out to join part of the white van brigade, and then collect the concrete mixer, but other than that I've been on my knees sorting through papers, drinking hot beverages, and introducing Steven to the chickens (and he demanded that I stick his picture on blip with the chicken).

Though his reaction to getting his hands on Missy is slightly disturbing.

Long chats about writing (he's a magazine editor) and movies are de rigeur when Steven and I get together, including ponderings on new (In Bruges) and old (Three Colours trilogy) favourites.

It's really nice catching up with folk, so the meal out tonight with 25 other people, should be good as well. And no chickens will be involved, save on the plate.

The comments on food appear to have sparked the cat into interest. I'm being stared at in that sort of way, two hours ahead of time.