So we decided we’d spend the day in Stratford. I can’t say that we did much, we had a mooch around, then went for lunch at the dirty duck, which was not bad, but not great either. The rest of the day we spent sitting by the river watching the Americans go by. Also we saw the world’s happiest dog; this older gent came rowing by and on the bow of his boat was this dalmatian, wagging it’s tail with obvious excitement. Down the river it went wagging furiously and back it came wagging even more furiously.
I find that the longer a day goes on the more Dakota starts poking me, drawing on me, trying to tickle me. I have various obscenities drawn on the sole of my shoe which she put there while I was reading and thus oblivious. Immediately I find myself poking and tickling her back and it all gets a bit giggly because I start teasing her and she starts teasing me and she giggles and giggles and giggles. Then she picks up my book and starts reading it.
On tuesday I was talking about a book I keep meaning to read called The Master of Go by Yasunari Kawabata, who is one of my favourite authors and fairly obscure as far as authors go in that if you stopped the average person in the street and named him they’d not have a clue who you were on about, but Dakota being Dakota she knew all about the book, which I found impressive.
Then I got home about elevenish after taking the scenic route home thanks to a dick of a train driver and had a good chat with CC.