Went for a walk on Saturday. Or 'hike' might be a better term – I'm not sure how far it was, exactly, but it was following part of a ten-mile trail, of which we covered a good portion. I'm still trying to find the information on how much (there are leaflets somewhere on this walk, if I can just find them…), but from the time it took and the ache in my legs, I'd say we did around eight miles. Not bad. Found a beautiful little lake, replete with waterlillies, in the depths of some woodland – about half an hour from our house. Lovely. Lots of guys fishing. My thoughts turned to Stargate, naturally.

We're lucky to live right on the edge of London, so there's a lot of greenery nearby. The trail we followed was part of the London Loop, which is a connected series of green spaces circling London. Theoretically, you can walk an entire circuit around London – but it's 150 miles, so I'm not desperate to do it next weekend or anything.

Got slightly sunburnt, which may have contributed to my restless sleep full of dreams that I was Marge Simpson on the run after witnessing a murder. Was very surreal – I was aware that I was a cartoon, yellow skin and all. Homer was a 'sleeper', an undercover double-agent, out to pin the murder on me. My brain is warped.

I've not got so far on the  apocalypse_kreestory this weekend (I did work on it though, Abyssis, I swear!). I have a better idea what I'm aiming for – I just need to cut my nails and get on with it. *g* I don't usually tend to get much writing done on weekends, for some reason. I don't know why, but my brain doesn't seem to settle down to it - I'm much happier writing on weekday evenings. I tend to want to do more practical stuff – cooking, walking, laundry, that sort of stuff. It's probably a way of letting my brain tick over – not switching off, but kind of the reverse – giving my thoughts some room to bounce around, twist and turn, go lateral.

Made a quiche. Turned out perfect, which is a rare thing in my cooking (usually things taste nice enough, but my presentation leaves a lot to be desired). The bf made watermelon juice – basically blending and filtering an entire watermelon, which involved a lot of time, noise, and a sticky kitchen floor, but left us with a jug of the wonderful stuff. Myum.

Ow ow ow, my shoulders sting.

Okay, back to work.