I had a bad night last night. I always do when I drink beer, and I always forget this. If I drink wine, I sleep well, but beer might as well be packed with caffeine. I therefore felt tired and rather sombre this morning. It is Palm Sunday, so joy would be required at church, together with joyful songs. I was not in the mood, so stayed in and read a sermon and thought a lot. Being sombre is good for me, as I always feel like writing, so I sat down in the afternoon and got on with some more writing. The research I banked up has proved useful, so I got quite a lot done, and have nearly reached my April deadline. I shall then be able to spend all the lovely spring days at my leisure, and go for lots of walks, and get lots of vitamin D and lose weight.
I read a very interesting paper this afternoon on the Thirty Years War. I need to get to grips with this period a bit more, and I now have some useful pointers. It took the approach that religious fervour was the cloak for good old-fashioned land greed and jostling for influence. I need to think about that a bit more, but I like the conclusion.
I cooked orzo tonight and made salad. It was very good. I was supposed to cook enough to take some to work for lunch tomorrow, but forgot, and then was hungry anyway. This is tiresome. I need to be more organised on the domestic front, and need to purge my place a bit. I have not used the Instant Pot in ages, and wonder if I should pass it on. Sigh.
Distressed email received today. Not in the mood to reply. Perhaps on Tuesday evening.