The weekend went almost as planned – first, we went to a concert at Snape on Friday evening, then drove down to Reading that night, arriving at about half past midnight.  Then we went off to a party in Gloucestershire on Saturday, about 80 miles away.

It was the 50th birthday party of the daughter of great friends of LT’s.  They are such great friends that they were among the very few non-family guests at our wedding.  Tim counts their children as honorary niece and nephews, so was very pleased to be invited to the party – and of course we wanted to go.  The only small complications were tickets for concerts on both Friday night and Sunday night, and that it was a Bank Holiday weekend, so booking a B&B for a single night wasn’t that easy.  So, I suggested, we just get in the car and do it all.  And that was going nicely.  The party was lovely and I’ve been introduced to all of the honorary family, and we were set for a relaxed Sunday morning and then a drive to Aldeburgh, then on to Snape for the concert, which was New Orleans trad jazz.

Then I had an email from Weeza on Sunday morning, to say that my sister Wink was in great pain and hardly able to move, so couldn’t come to stay that night, as had been planned.  So I phoned her – it’s her leg and lower back, she doesn’t know what has caused it but (this is a very stoical woman with a high pain threshold) she was almost in tears from the pain.  So, being only 80 miles away (the opposite direction from the party), we got in the car and drove to her, picking up extra painkillers on the way.

I could say words about the traffic past Stonehenge at this point, and the absurd vanity project of an unaffordable pair of tunnels that archaeologists don’t want, that prevent a dual carriageway being put in and, instead, cause several miles of traffic jams; especially when a car breaks down.  But I won’t darlings, because I’m a cheery sort of Z who doesn’t do that sort of thing.  And we cooked Wink some lunch and made her more comfortable and did a bit of shopping and she felt a bit better and assured us she didn’t want us to stay, which, of course, we would have been happy to do.  So we set off, avoiding Stonehenge by going down interesting country roads and, as LT was driving, I actually used maps, as well as my phone app, to navigate.

But the M25 was busy by early afternoon and we simply gave up on the trad jazz.  We just wanted to get out of the unremitting rain and get home.  So we did, and I rootled around in the freezer and put together two one-person casseroles (both leftovers; I save them for when Tim is away) and ate them, and went to bed.  And today, we went over for a family bash at Weeza’s, which was what Wink was coming for, and I made several batches of scones and took fig jam and damson jam, and everyone else took other stuff too, and Weeza and co have massive leftovers.

We had poached eggs for supper.  Two chickens have been moulting, so only the three black ones have been laying – they never seem to go off-lay.  But now they’re all laying and we can expect rather a lot of eggs, to go with the other gluts, over the next few weeks.

Wink says she’s feeling a bit better, but still in bed, and will phone the doctor in the morning.