Sunday, December 04, 2005
Getting up at the break of fast
For some reason I opted, volunteered and through my own free will gave up my lay-in on Saturday.
I woke up before the crack of dawn, which in some more sordid blogs would be cause for a "blue" comment. However, I can assure you I was widey-awakey at 5am so I could sit and watch the time tick by on my clock until my alarm went off at 6am.
Once that had happend, I shoved the duvet back over my head and listened to Radio 4 until 6:20 when I got out of bed. It was Pitch Black. Filthy, dirty, bottom of a mine-shaft dark. I was depressed. Then I switched on a light and I was happier. Then I looked at the clock again and it read 6:21 (but not necesarilly in that font). And I was depressed again.
However, once I had abluted, I took myself off to the Men's Breakfast and arrived in good time to cook a smashing fry-up for 10 fine fellows. It was ace. But no black pudding (it turned out that Nigel did the shopping at 5am that morning whilst I was busy counting down the minutes to having to get up - And He Forgot The Blood Sausage!)
Everyone was very complimentary about the cooking and pitched in at the end to do the washing up. Once out of there, it was time to pack a bag and head off to sunny Sussex to see my Daddy.
I woke up before the crack of dawn, which in some more sordid blogs would be cause for a "blue" comment. However, I can assure you I was widey-awakey at 5am so I could sit and watch the time tick by on my clock until my alarm went off at 6am.
Once that had happend, I shoved the duvet back over my head and listened to Radio 4 until 6:20 when I got out of bed. It was Pitch Black. Filthy, dirty, bottom of a mine-shaft dark. I was depressed. Then I switched on a light and I was happier. Then I looked at the clock again and it read 6:21 (but not necesarilly in that font). And I was depressed again.
However, once I had abluted, I took myself off to the Men's Breakfast and arrived in good time to cook a smashing fry-up for 10 fine fellows. It was ace. But no black pudding (it turned out that Nigel did the shopping at 5am that morning whilst I was busy counting down the minutes to having to get up - And He Forgot The Blood Sausage!)
Everyone was very complimentary about the cooking and pitched in at the end to do the washing up. Once out of there, it was time to pack a bag and head off to sunny Sussex to see my Daddy.
