A fine mist of rain enveloped east Kent as I prepared to return home. Cold wind too. Getting to the station I learned the usual fear when I visit dad that there are no trains. So a bus then run to the train and eventually to home. Back here and on the King's Cross train it was sweltering and humid. Glad to be back when I finally got there. Add the taxi trouble I had on Friday it was not my most trouble free trip to the coast. But never mind.
Dad's new flat looks great although not enough wall space for all the pictures and a few more boxes to unpack. He was on good form as were my friends I caught up with. It did not seem so frantic as the weekends I have at home when time slips away so suddenly and leaves me on the cusp of another Monday.
Yet today I feel okay. I'm debating whether to watch the football. Many are overjoyed that Andy Murray won Wimbledon-well done him. And dad will be delighted with the result of the Grand Prix. Neither really my scene but the cricket is coming. Day 1 on Thursday then I will be in attendance for day 2. Always a great day out.
Maybe see you in the week.
I Heard a Voice.
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