I think this must qualify as the laziest Sunday ever. I did not set foot outdoors. Mostly I lay on the chaise-longue reading Miss Marjoribanks by Mrs Oliphant - a mid-nineteenth century comedy of manners. I cannot decide whether I find the book charming or massively irritating. Certainly the main character deserves a good slapping. It is not clear whether the author thinks so too. I only chose the book because I enjoyed the entirely unrelated Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine so much.
After such an exhausting day I opened this bottle to drink with the baked hake. It came as a relief to have a chance to rest my weary body whilst drinking rhubarb wine.
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