Saturday

I slept nicely until some silly o’clock. Thereafter, sleep was not so great. I was awoken by messages that my gut was receiving which did not bode well for the rest of the day.
My tummy messages became more urgent and definitely not to be ignored. And so some of the morning passed in discomfort.

When it felt safe enough, H and I wandered across Streatley Rec which was now surrounded by flooded or partly flooded fields as far as the eye could see.
We walked towards the Swan, but paths across the field, and near the river were drowning in water and invisible.
The car park was quite empty, possibly because it had been transformed into a lake. The Swan garden was also a lake. Only half of it had been a lake two days ago. Now it was awhile lake. Garden furniture was stacked by the steps, but you needed water wings to access the cafe via that route.

I paddled through ankle deep water to enter via the side entrance, although there was dry entry through the hotel or rear access. And then I got to enjoy a strong Americano.

And I sat and admired the river rushing by in the distance, regardless of submerged boats, gardens, walkways, locks. The water now lapped the steps and I believe locals said they had never seen the water so high.

Two days ago and today. Last summer we had sat under the trees that lined the river bank. The boat with the blue hood has been displaced into a new wonkiness.

The car park in the two pictures above.

A doggy poo bin along the Thames path.

I followed up this magnificent outing with a trip to watch F playing hockey. I had picked up a very annoying letter as I left home, informing me the bank had cancelled our home insurance direct debit. Halifax, the insurers, couldn’t be bothered to open after 13.00 on a Saturday. The Bank could not trace the direct debit in T’s bank account. So we appear to be uninsured until I can ring Halifax on Monday morning.
I’m unimpressed.

I watched hockey for a little while, Wallingford appeared to be in control. And then I visited Waitrose for a fish, avocado pear and tomatoes. Time to return home . And have a chat with Eleanor. That was very helpful to me to natter through matters.

My tummy persisted in reminding me that it was in delicate mood throughout most of the day, though its demands became less urgent.
Once home, that is where I stayed.
An early lunch of the most delicious an avocado and tomato salad followed. Waitrose were selling off ‘slicing’ tomatoes, which were big and fat and juicy. Their juices mixed with a little oil and balsamic and avocado were just magic. Not like the flavorless eye-wateringly expensive jobs you normally get at this time of year.

There was little of interest on the TV so I caught up with some of the Tourist until my eyes felt heavy. When I awoke, I decided bed was a better bet than fighting sleep in the sofa.
H agreed, clearly replete, after another gourmet Michelin *** doggy dinner.

It’s another 03.30 start. I need coffee!

Thought for the Day