Chilly morning again, but my legs were more limber. No breeze, 3°, and a mile in 9:59. We’re having a simulated Saturday breakfast instead of going to our usual brunch at Queen’s Lane. Though hearty, my breakfast did not quell the grumblings of appetite; such is the nature of desire. Nonetheless, I resisted temptation, made another cup of coffee, and did a quick check of our finances.
Toward the end of the morning, I made a foray to Sainsbury’s, winding up sixth in the queue to get in. (Margaret and I have decided to stick exclusively with 7:00 grocery trips henceforward.) Although I forgot one or two items (curses, no Ritz crackers!) I was surprised at how complete a sweep I could make. I could even have bought a big package of loo roll if we had needed any. We’ll be set for meals with no trouble for the next few days.
We set out to watch what we anticipated would be a tour through the Andy Warhol exhibit at the Tate Modern, only to find out that — rather than being a virtual tour through the rooms, looking carefully at the exhibition — it was essentially just a publicity trailer. We watched for the four minutes or so of the clip, then Margaret opted for a tour of the Vatican; and after we had craned our virtual necks to examine the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, I showed her my photos of the Milan Cathedral, Santa Maria Nascente, from a day trip the Oxford New Testament staff and PG students made in 2017.
Then odds and ends, delicious dinner, and Spooks.