Strange Sunday.

Why is today a strange Sunday? Cos I woke at 7.45am, without an alarm clock, and was wide awake.
I'd done all my usual Sunday jobs by 10 am, so the day was my own.
I'd also inadvertently woken Samantha. I didn't even know she was in the house....honest guv!

I sat for a while reading, but the book I'm reading right now is heavy, so you have to rest it somewhere if you want to read long periods of time. (Will need to get a book rest when my tum has disappeared! ROFL)

About 3pm, Samantha surfaced properly. She'd only got in at 4am, been out at Blackpool to a rock club. No...not that kind, although the mental image it conjures up is amusing.

Picture this, shady alleyway, a door creaks open.
"Is the the Rock Club?" a voice asks.
"Shh!" says the disembodied voice from behind the door. "We don't want to invite a raid. Where's your invite?"
The voice in the alleyway produces a hand, in it an embossed invitation, with a pink and white striped border.
"Everything is in order, enter" and the disembodied voice also produces a hand, which pulls the outside voice in.
When our hero, the owner of the voice grows accustomed to the light level inside......wonderful things meet his eyes. He wanders around speechless, as he just gazes at each new sight.
Finally, he finds his voice again. (He got like that sometimes in places he'd never been before, just losing his voice..and it took forever in an unfamiliar place to find again, being a soft brown voice it tended to blend in..or get lost in dark places.)
"I've not seen one like that in ages."
The other voice had been surrounded by a perfectly, ordinary-looking gentleman. (Well, he thought he was, even with his extra long arms.)
"Pulled that one myself. Most like them hooked over, like the small ones you see on Christmas trees, but me, I like them long and straight."
"Are you still allowed to make the blue ones?" our hero asks

And there we're going to leave them, as they wander further into the club and our hero meets other members....will a simply gripping adventure materialise out of this innocent meeting, who knows? (Answers on a postcard or sealed down envelope....to.......)

Anyway, Sam wanted me to take her for her car...that's why she keeps me around!
Then I went to the market, and bought loads of fruit, and a lettuce. The man who served me informed me "These greengage want eating, love!" What did he think I was buying them for?
(Saying that, I now remember I used the same phrase myself when selling fruit and veg. Must be fruit-and-vegitis. Or as I sometimes call it, stating the obvious.)
After unpacking, I read some more and have read roughly and 1/8th of this huge book I'm reading...yes..it is a normal book...with normal print, and only two black and white pictures so far. Apparently the writing style mimics that of Jane Austen, but I will have to bow to that critic's knowledge, never having read a Jane Austen in my life, despite the degree in English Literature....there are only SO MANY books you can read, and write essays on in three years.
Then the lads came back, and the dogs were happy again.