Last night my Paramour cooked a toothsome stir-fry: small cubes of marinaded tofu, fried until crispy; lots of sliced red onion and garlic; big slices of field mushroom; mixed bean sprouts from the jar on the windowsill; a savoury, spicy sauce; and fried rice with mange-touts from the garden. I washed that down with a large glass of well-chilled Sauvignon Blanc, he chose a bottle of Speckled Hen ale.
We'd both had busy and stressful days, so we weren't talking much, just eating in a comfortable silence. Then he said 'I've had an idea for a TV programme. I think I'll pitch it for the autumn schedules.'
I looked at him, surprised. He was concentrating on his plate but I could see a mischievous light in his eye. 'Go on,' I said.
'Bone Idol,' he said.
I laughed. 'About people who want to be archaeologists?'
'Yes. But not very much.'
I laughed some more, then I had a thought of my own. 'Can I nick that for my blog?'
He smiled his generous smile. 'Of course you can.'
So I did.
In other news, a couple of lovely blogfriends are visiting me this weekend. I've met them both; they've both been here before; they know each other well online, but they've never met in person. I suspect drink will be taken, and I don't think much blogging will be done by any of us. Sorry about that, but sometimes - and I know this may come as a shock - meeting people out in the world, where we talk with our mouths and listen with our ears instead of talking with our fingers and listening with our eyes, makes a nice change. I understand it can be addictive, though, so don't worry, we will be careful; we are determined not to get hooked and start ignoring our proper computer lives. It's just recreational, honest. We only do it at weekends. We could stop any time we liked...