Tired Again

Forgot to mention that the Kookster stormed in at 4am the night before last and absolutely soaked me, so I had to get up and towel him dry. I cannot think why he hangs around outside in the pouring rain. Perhaps he was having a confrontation with another cat. Last night I heard him wailing at 4.15 outside the front of the house, so had to get up and let him in. At least he wasn't soaking wet. Yesterday I had coffee with David and lunch at Lye Torng. Julian had asked me to accompany him to Peckham to deal with some people about housing, so I did not get any drawing done. I cooked a rack of ribs from Tesco in the evening as it was two days past the use by date. David tells me the library have purchased a whole lot of P.G. Wodehouse, so he has started on those, having finished the Mapp and Lucia novels. I am reading the Return of the Native, having finished Wessex Tales. David and I were saying we should try and find another place to meet, just for a change, so I am wracking my tiny brain. Trouble is, the weather has been too vile to rely upon finding a place to sit outside, which we would prefer. Oh well.