Took Spike to playgroup - my first off-drop. 22-minute walk. Through sleet.
Walked along with IK a short while, heading out of the park and down Church Street with Oscar in pushchair and dog in tow. He's doing a spot on Richard and Judy talking about history of food, and was amusingly self-deflatory about it, before pushing off to the Spence to buy bread.
It's all a little strange, this.
Like talking to yourself in a blacked-out hangar, wondering if one person, or thirty, or none, is listening.
The radio play I had on a couple of weeks ago was heard by something around two million people, mostly in Britain of course, but a small percentage online, abroad. And a small percentage of two million is not negligible.
It's the open-endedness of the activity that attracts, I realise. That it's liable to mutate.
I had thought I wanted to make a record of brain activity - the conscious stuff, anyway - writing projects, opinions on books, plays etc. And I will. But I'm aware of this place as a new destination, a place to play. I wonder what it's going to be like.
For now - back to bed with paper and coffee. B is out at the gym I think so all's quiet...