Coffee in Hexham

Today I travelled to Hexham to meet with my friend Patrick. The sky was half-covered with dark puffy clouds. Were I to be in a glass-half-full mood I would focus on the blue sky and the sunny breaks, We met in the market square. I was tempted to buy some farm eggs but we pressed on to what has become our usual café. Once settled we placed our orders with the young waitress, and passed the time of day with her. Then we launched into one of the better specimens of our circuitously rambling conversations. A couple of hours and two cafeteriéres later, we emerged back into the square. We got no further than a couple of hundred yards before we felt the need to sit down on a bench, take the sun, and finish our natter. This was easier said than done, since our chats are characteristically open-ended.

Hexham car park

Eventually I returned to my car and started the journey home, There was a huge plume of smoke arising from the Newcastle skyline. I tuned into the local radio and learned that a scrap yard had caught fire.

When I got home I mowed the lawn. Indeed, I am now sitting in a sun lounger on it, listening to the sweet song of a blackbird. I am writing on a paper note pad with my digital pen. My plan is to convert it to text once I have uploaded to computer. In the past, I frequently wanted to write my blog while sitting in the garden (at least, in the summer months). However, it never worked for me owing to the difficulty of reading a computer screen outside in daylight. If this approach to digital handwriting and subsequent conversion to text works, it could change my modus operandi for both blogging and the writing of fiction. For the time being, it is rather buggy but I have not finished setting up the recognition program; it needs to be trained to recognise my quirky penmanship.

Had I not travelled to Hexham, I would have made Julia’s pâte brisée (short crust pastry). As it is, I think I shall do that tomorrow, let it rest in the fridge overnight, and then make a quiche on Saturday. Good plan, if I do say so myself. Speak to you later, my dear blogophiles.

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