Irish Thursday

woken again by the increasing traffic on the South Circular. First in ones and then in groups, cars rushing by, loud tyre noise in the wet.
Grey day, rest a few minutes more.
No way, it was eight when I woke.
get dressed, no shoes on, down to breakfast, good morning Miread,
Eat up.
All Bran Cereal.
Toast and slices from a pigs belly, fried with an an egg and a tomatoe.
Full Irish Breakfast.
Finish up, nine.
Shower and teeth, nine oh 6.
Throwaway razors would make a mess of the wrinkled face if used in a hurry.
Unshaven look today.
Back to bedroom
Finish dressing
write blog
Find shoes
go