This is where I’ve been today, and very splendid it was. Cold, though. I dutifully spent quite a long time in the garden and rather wished that, as well as two jumpers and two jackets, I’d worn gloves.
I’m still tired, hoarse voice, tickly cough. It’s either a cold or a reaction to all the fields of oilseed rape that are now in flower. I had a little nap on the way home and, I’m afraid, an early night is indicated at the moment. I hate early nights. I’ve nothing against getting up early, but evening time is when I perk up and feel most cheery. But the Sage is out and may need a lift home, so I’ll have to stay alert for now.
I had just cooked myself scrambled eggs, put them on half a slice of toast, Marmited the other half and started eating, when someone called round to see the Sage. Of course, he’s out, but when I came back having explained that, I found the dog had eaten my eggs. I’m really not very lucky with evening meals at the moment. I’ve eaten some cucumber. I can’t have a glass of wine in case I’m driving and, actually, I don’t really want one.
H’m. I must be under the weather.