Anyhoo (yes "anyway" was already taken).

Things:
- The RFH stock a Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own tea-towel. The container with similarly branded rolling pins presumably went over the side somewhere in the Western Approaches.
- Beddingfield music leads to interesting scenarios. Specifically the cute guy on the checkout singing along (since when do they have music in Sainsbury's?) to "These words" and so calling out to me "I love you, I love you, I love you", possibly unintentionally.
- Discoballs/mirrorballs/glitterballs rock. There's one that catches the morning sun on the way to the Tube and so bounces joy all over M&S.
- I'm still not having much joy with moving anywhere, hence only getting to... I was going to write 'blog', but it's not just blogging, it's Flickring, GWLing, Facebooking, emailing and general internetting once in an oddly brown moon (ok, I haven't seen the moon for weeks, although it could just be the Daleks hauling things out of place, but the last time I saw it was through the London filter).
- Oh sugarbowls, which is not a hideously twee (incidentally, someone at work addresses the entire company as cherubs when emailing; it has yet to be confirmed if this person is a part of the seraphim) way of swearing. Simply it reflects breakage (not by me) and replacement, which I planned (the latter, not the... you get the idea. And what do we think of this London brought to you by IKEA tube map sponsorship thing?) meticulously, having discovered the only things I liked that vaguely matched were £40 (well, if I will think "Oh, I like that" in Heal's) so instead opting for a mini Le Creuset (or however it's spelt; the big, heavy, orange ones that'll be what the Armageddon-surviving cockroaches shelter in) casserole on the grounds that it is both far cheaper and slightly different (yes, I know probably not that different but John Lewis's - and yes I was having a hideously-consumerist-aspirational-or-perhaps-stolidly-middle-class-perk-me-up day; I may not have anywhere to put it, or me, but I can still recognise a good vase - doesn't really offer much in the way of left-field-ness [or perhaps silly-mid-off-ness]), only to not buy one yet and then discover that she-who-is-worrying-about-money had ordered one from that kindly Mr Lewis with ten minutes of the other one breaking (but then she is the only one who uses it).
- Sundry other things forgotten of late. But it's late (i.e. two hours after I got home) so I must to bed.

Anyhoo,