A whole night without the telly.
Although my surroundings are familiar, I feel I am in some kind of remote island, strangely set in the middle of a town rather than in the sea. Everything unusually quiet.
Went to bed at 9, woke up at 6.30. All yesterday evening I was unsettled. I usually spend most of my evening watching TV, but after a few attempts to make it work, gave up. The house was so quiet that I spent some time in the kitchen listening to the radio.
Eventually drifted off to bed with a few mags to look at until I dropped off to sleep.
Still feels strange this morning. Have been reading a few blogs, and putting a few snaps on Flickr. Must get out today and hunt for a small prezzie for Dorothy, though the two bombs found (fortunately before they went off) in the West End are a bit of an off-putter. Not to mention the almost continuous rain.
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