Parked in Wiltshire

It’s been an excellent day. Zig’s friend Kay was due for coffee, but she didn’t feel up to driving (horribly, soon after I was last here in June – I think – she was diagnosed with breast cancer and has since had an op and is halfway through chemotherapy).  She suggested we went to her house, but we were expecting the BT engineer, so I went to fetch her instead.  She brought home-made scones and clotted cream and we provided Norfolk jam, sent by Roses.  Having had croissants for breakfast, we had the scones for lunch.  Because we can if we want to.

Mr BT, whose name is Kevin, took the banter (perfectly respectful, we weren’t misbehaving) of three women of uncertain age in his stride and sorted out the problems toot sweet.  Then we went off to see the ponies in their new field where they are very happy and well. I greeted them as horses do, face to face and they remembered me, there was no hesitation.  But that isn’t the important thing, which is that Zig drove because she felt well enough.  And she did a splendid parallel park on our return, too.

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