I hold an IGCSE English language workshop at my house - on the veranda to be exact. It is cold. Freezing cold. I think it is the coldest day we have had the whole year. It begins well, but towards the end, everyone is shivering, including me.
I spend the afternoon marking. Around 2.30pm, there is a hoot at the gate and John goes to see who it is. Unknown to us, we have just had a booking made on booking.com and it is the guests. They arrive with a huge bunch of balloons saying 'Happy Anniversary'. When I ask John where they are from, he says they said Harare but he didn't believe them. He thinks it's a ruse. I'm not sure why anyone would say they are from Harare if they weren't, but anyway. I think my Agatha Christie mind is rubbing off on John.
In the evening, I have a glass of wine, the first in two months and I feel very odd. It is not a nice feeling at all. Since I began doing more yoga and meditation, I find myself rarely drinking anything alcoholic. This has not been a conscious decision, but something that has just happened.
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