A new book. I'm not a big fan of the historical novel but couldn't resist this one about Richard III which promises to challenge some commonly held views about him. Not very far into it (it's a hefty read at just under 900 pages) I'm already having to constantly check who's who (my brain appreciates a very short uncomplicated dramatis personae these days), much the same as I did when reading Wolf Hall, but at least not everyone is called Thomas in this one. A number do, however, appear to be called Richard.
Breakfast. I don't usually bother but now that the temperature is falling I find myself fancying porridge (always made with water, a good pinch of seasalt and a splash of milk to serve). And if I forget what I'm eating, my lovely new bowl reminds me (it does say 'porridge', not just 'por', honestly).
Planning the Spring contents of the garden pots. Tulips are probably my all-time favourite flower so I've started with a selection of those. One bright spark here thought I'd gone crackers and ordered onions online instead of buying our usual nets from Tesco.
A new yoga class. It's held in the church hall just across the road (more or less) so very handy. Everyone is super focused (there's no before/after chitchat) and I'm definitely not as bendy as I'd hoped but I find myself looking forward to it. During the final relaxation/meditation phase of the very first session, laying on my mat with eyes closed, the tears started flowing. So, yes, it's true. I cry at everything.
A batch of chocolate cupcakes. The other two here weren't complimentary (I'm used to it) but I loved them (the cupcakes, not the other two here). Vegan cakes do have a tendency to be damp (if you know what I mean) but I decided these were the best I've baked sans eggs and dairy. So far. I'm still on the lookout for that perfect recipe.
Lunch and a jolly good catch up with a friend, though I do wish he'd told me my eye makeup had smudged badly. Honestly, I could have given Claudia Winkleman a run for her money.
Handing over a gift of a knitted cardi. I was rather pleased with it in the end, despite grappling with the far from clear instructions (to do lots of 'wrapping' and 'turning') for the collar. The very small recipient didn't appear to be too impressed, however.
An evening with Michael Palin. (I know. Joanna Trollope one week, one sixth of Monty Python the next.) We lack a proper theatre in this town (sadly, there used to be nine) so several hundred of us spent two and a half hours squirming on the most uncomfortable chairs imaginable (the bloke behind me moaned rather too loudly and too often about the strain on his coccyx) in the Town Hall whilst Michael did what he does best - making people laugh. He's kept a diary since 1969 (he writes on one side of the page, then turns the diary upside down and starts again on the opposite page) and three volumes have been published. His show is a mix of film and TV clips, photographs, readings, anecdotes, all based on his diary entries and it was a brilliant start to the weekend.
Only Connect. This is probably my favourite TV quiz show, even though I rarely guess the connections (correctly or incorrectly). Actually, I fare slightly better at answering questions on University Challenge but we can't watch that as the Boo hates Jeremy Paxman. With a vengeance. Truly.
The farmers market in the park on this cool, misty morning. Not only did I buy squeakily fresh veg, apples grown in the venue itself, jam, savoury pastries and biscuits, I found a bargain read. There's currently a group of volunteers trying to raise sufficient funds to erect a statue of Boro lad made good, Captain James Cook (statues in his likeness can be found across the world but there's not a single one in this, his home town) and they now have a book stall at the market. I couldn't believe my luck. A quid for a pristine hardback copy of a first volume of diaries.