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If our devices etc. are really all listening to us then I feel sorry for them, we’re so boring going on about this and that.
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Grew a record three tiny tomatoes on the balcony this season. Going “they actually taste like tomatoes”, claiming that supermarket ones don’t, is witless bollocks, but these did taste like tomatoes. Alas I didn’t take the time to slice them finely to make the world’s tiniest tomato salad, just ate them. Maybe next season will be the season I try using Tomorite.
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To leafy leafy London (to watch a RHLSTP). On the way home, overhead wire problems – I was at once excited about the delay repay ramifications and concerned about being stranded. Thinking myself clever, I took an alternative route – a train to Stansted, then a coach. There followed some drama as the train I could have caught was cancelled, reinstated, and eventually arrived quite late but still I’d’ve been much better off (as in both time and money) catching it and having faith in the railway gods. But never mind, I got to spend a charming hour at Stansted airport coach station so who was the real winner?
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Outside the Liverpool Street Marks & Spencer a man said “wait” or “hold on a minute” or words to that effect, and I thought he was telling me not to go into the shop but no he was speaking to an unseen someone on his telephone. Then I was too caught up with the selection of prawn sandwiches and the temperatures of the drinks cans that I didn’t make a note of the exact wording of what he said, so I can’t be sure, which I don’t like.
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Amy Gledhill (h). A visit to the Playhouse is worthwhile for the novelty of the push-action paper towel dispensers they have, but she was good as well.