Dry

Today dawned early at 05.00. I did not swim today – too much going on.

But I was in no hurry to get up because that meant being confronted by chores. Which I did in the end anyway.

I took H for a walk to the coffee morning which was pleasant enough as usual. I spent a little while hunting out people who might be interested in the local art group. We need more interest to make it viable.

I had to cut my attendance slightly short because I was due in Reading at 02.00 to see Catherine to finalise the will and T’s estate. She was very struck by the two David Charles. Catherine was a St Gabriel’s’ gal! She used to live in Enborne.
It was a good meeting.

My journey there and back was a bit scary – after all I am a bit of a country bumpkin these days. Wallingford roads do not subscribe to heavy lorries or much traffic. Reading is a different matter. Add to that the fact it is unfamiliar territory… I can drive through Athens- no problem- but U.K. city roads are another matter.
My return trip was quite extraordinary from near Mapledurham almost to Woodcote. I joined a long queue of very slow moving traffic, the reason for which was not immediately apparent. The cause was partially revealed to be a very slow moving open truck. By slow moving, I mean around 10pm for quite a substantial distance.

As I became nearer to the responsible vehicle, it became clear from the smell and the noise, that it was clattering along on a flat tyre, or more accurately, on the wheel hub. Volumes of smelly purple fumes lead the way. I wondered what sort of idiot/s were behind the steering wheel.

I managed to nip past and drive home via Goring where H was waiting for me.

But I had jobs to do- the bins to put out and some weeding of the front gravel to deal with. Next door’s plumber to chat to over replacing the incompetent previous boiler servicers.

The morning had started pretty grim weather wise but it had greatly improved by the time my meeting was over. And the afternoon was bathed in warm sunshine and, to my horror, I spied wilting beans. That necessitated taking the hose for a wander.

My television watching included a BBC4 programme called Horsepower. It is a gentle documentary, peeping deeply into the world of horse racing which has never interested me. But it is a series of episodes exploring life in racing stables – Andrew Balding’s (Clare’s brother) at Kingsclere. So, local to my old place of work. Apparently the stables are the largest local employer – a vast microcosm world of its own. They have 79 accommodation units for staff, horses in training worth millions, including some that, at time of filming, belonged to the Queen. I’m not sure her son is a follower.

As for the football. I thought that England might do better without my support. I took it elsewhere. And they won so who knows?

Thought for the Day