So whilst you were lazing around, reading the papers, relaxing in front of a hot tv screen, putting the kids through the car-wash, sitting in a beer-garden, strolling round some village or generally being a lazy fucking bastard!!!, some of us were busy. But like, busy. (Note: for the purposes of this message, neither ‘gloating’, nor ‘wallowing in Arsenal’s displeasure and frustration’, counts as ‘work’. It is pure pleasure.)

Because one of Mel’s staff had the bare-faced cheek and outrageous audacity to take a holiday, I was seconded to go and help. Even though I insult people and generally cause way more bother than I’m worth, there was no-one else to ask. And because of that, I had to play tennis at 9 instead of my usual 10. The sacrifices I make…

Tennis was great, it barely rained at all. Then home, shower, change, and to work. Which was, as always on a Sunday morning, busy.

But then I left at 12.45 because I went to a stone-setting. Its the Jewish version of a ‘memorial’. About 9 months after burial, its time to accept that they ain’t gonna rise up, (as did happen to one Jewish guy a couple thousand years ago), so its ok to put half a ton of granite on top. And whilst you’re doing it, you might as well say a few prayers. Which we duly did. And its comforting for the bereaved and a nice kind of ‘closure’. Even though it was in Bushey. Though it was unusually sunny and lovely, which always adds.

I came all the way back to London from Hertfordshire, (20 minutes), only to go to the Affordable Art Fair, for which we’d acquired tickets many months ago. And the art was… affordable. If you can blow 5 grand on a dog made of scrap metal, or a collage which Joey would be proud of, then its very ‘affordable’. But its on Hampstead Heath. Which is lovely. And on a sunny day, what could be nicer. Ok, getting there without getting really lost on the Heath might be a bit nicer, but that’s the nature of trees. They all look the fucking same. We didn’t get quite so lost getting home. Just… let’s just say, if I had a step-counter I’d have hit any target 6 times.

Home for the last 10 minutes of the Arsenal game which, due to, as mentioned above, my refusal to claim any enjoyment from, ended about 10 minutes later.

Happy Sunday,

A xxxx