I stayed indoors and got some work done today, slowly plucking out a few hundred more words to put towards a couple of short stories and doing some tinkering with the next chapbook. I learned stuff about Delacroix, including how much he was influenced by English painters. I realised I can't tell parody from the real thing in The Spectator. I had some redfish. I managed to rescue clothes that had been imprisoned by the washing-machine for the last 24 hours. I watched the second half of the strange, unsettling Wedding Of Palo (and I now know how to skin and eviscerate a seal). I had a banana. I thought, did and felt several things I'm not going to tell you about. And now I'm lying in bed with Evelyn Waugh.