2011 — 21 June: Tuesday
Quite how it can nearly be midsummer's day — again — is a bit of a boggler.1 Still, the sun is currently shining, the cuppa is currently hot, and I had a weird dream about some people installing a garage at the side of my house without asking me, claiming to have had authority to do so from my wife. Where do dreams come from?
And where do memories go? It irritates me that one of the most recent batch of slides I unearthed has left no neural trace of where we were when I pressed the shutter. Pity I can't ring that "Night Bell" and ask someone:
Breakfast next, and then it will be time to hit the road over to Glayshers Hill, or close thereabouts.
Better later than never
I hardly got lost at all today; and the return trip — assisted by the buzz from three cups of black coffee — actually got me back via Alton and the A31. A significant advance on the disgraceful route I mismanaged on my last trip. It's now 22:01 and I think that will almost do for today. My chum was on excellent form; my criterion being the rough percentage of the time I spent talking versus listening. Today's ratio was about 10 to 90.