I've been wandering around the house half of the day doing nothing really. I didn't even have a nap and that's what I usually do when there's nothing else to do. I've been wearing this mangy old cardigan that smells like wet wool for the past week, it's quite comfortable and long so you don't have to wear anything under it. It's very rainy. Not the cardigan, the weather. Apparently in Canada it's freezing, so I'm bloody glad I'm not there right now. Lately I've been enjoying the house I'm living in, crap British real-estate television shows, a cat named Willow and strawberries and cream. I've been un-enjoying the rain, my almost-broken toe and having to share a room with someone who goes to sleep without reading. Some people. Yesterday I read High Fidelity and now have decided that it's my favourite book, right after Down and Out in Paris and London which I finished the day before. I've been following George Orwell around England, where he was born, where he lived. We're going to go to Wigan Peir next week, it's all quite strange. Enough writing, I hope you know who George Orwell is. And for Alexandra (who never posts on this blog anymore); Your postcard will be mailed tomorrow. Hope you're alright.