It’s always the same when you know you have to get up in good time. Couldn’t sleep at all the last night of the hols. Silly thing was that I hadn’t set my alarm for any earlier than I usually woke naturally. Anyway, having dozed occasionally, I was awake for good at 4. I lay for a bit, humming sotto voce – obviously, I wouldn’t wake my next-door neighbour, who had had no such scruples a couple of nights earlier, when the bathroom was visited at 2.30 and 3.30 and the bedside drawers were loudly opened and shut at 6 o’clock, several times. At 7.30, he or she had a shower. I felt highly miffed. Nevertheless, I didn’t retaliate, not turning on the bathroom light (which started the fan) or flushing or turning on the tv. I didn’t even shower until 7.30.
Anyway, after a rather unnerving drive on a wet and blustery M3 (not a large section of the journey but the least pleasant), I arrived home in good time. The Sage had missed me so much that he’d turned out the larder and washed the kitchen floor. The chickens had kindly laid me some eggs for lunch.
It was a lovely holiday and the temperature was just right really – low 20s/70s, depending on which scale you use, so not so hot I had to cover my tender pale skin but warm enough to be very pleasant, although the shock of coming back to icy rain was not so nice.
And now I’m going to have an early night and cuddle my lovely husband in my own lovely bed. Won’t need much rocking tonight, I think.