Fiona, Nathan and I have just watched Felix
Baumgartner throwing himself out of a tiny balloon capsule drifting above the
earth at 128,000 feet. It was, without question, one of the most uncomfortable
20 minutes of my life. We’d been told almost anything could have happened from
his blood boiling on the way down to his neck breaking as he tumbled out of the
balloon. Fortunately he landed on his feet, looking as though the countless records he'd just broken were all in a day's work. What a man!
We went for a roast dinner in Highgate village this afternoon
before taking a little spin around Waterlow Park. We’ve come back home for tea,
cake and telly. It’s difficult to imagine how a day could have been any less
productive. I did try to do some writing this morning, but I’m still trying to
shake off some kind of post-Requiem malaise. That's what Sundays are for, right?
I genuinely wish I could think of something more interesting
to say today, but Downton Abbey is about to start and I’d like to offer it my
unwavering attention!
350 years ago, Pepys spent the day in court, discussing some
of the repercussions of his Uncle’s will, who’d basically been dead forever. Pepys
must have started to wonder why he was bothering.
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