Day 343: Tripod of Sluggery

I smell of bonfires.  My voice has dropped about an octave, thanks to smoke inhalation and red wine.  It is not a day for singing anything with high notes, or doing anything that requires energy.  I need to be a sofa slug.

Hot shower.  Sunday papers.  Tea.  The Tripod of Sluggery*. 

(* Shower, papers and tea - these are the supportive legs.  I am not talking about an actual tripod (see left).  Although if I had one, I would use it.  Probably for my elbow.