Its been traumatic and technically confusing to say the least, these last few days. My son came back from Skiing on an inconspicuous continental Coach full of Kids with Covid (remember that?) from Austria, which broke down for 12 hours on the side of an Autobahn somewhere near Munich surrounded by trees, with no wifi, and unable to turn off the heating otherwise the bus would explode. That last bit is probably a slight fabrication, but needless to say, 36 hours on a coach of which 12 of those spent in a vehicle which won’t cool down, sounds pretty grim. But happily he said to me, with a croaky voice and streaming nose that he’d do it all again to go skiing. Which is nice but potentially very expensive going forward! My newish brother came over with his 2 significant ladies this weekend; a wife and a mistress which is always quite awkward, but after a few glasses of wine and a curry, one of them is always too drunk to attempt anything untoward. Did I say mistress? I meant daughter; stand by your beds folks, the honeymoon not over but different, for us all I’d say.

Tomorrow I’m off to Southampton for a 2 day meeting of which 1 day is driving to and fro, and the other day will be spent looking out of the window, looking forward to a swim in the hotel pool and a  glass of a little something. I don’t have to take any equipment, so I’m going to be driving back on Thursday thinking about what I forgot over the past 24 hours. Ive got to remember everyones names too which will be an issue, you’ll understand when you get to my age.

Parish notices:

For regular masochists who claim to read this nonsense every day… you’re all liars as I very rarely do this every day, where’s the time going. So yesterday and possibly the day before you may well have been faced with a website with my name advertising cakes, doilies and gateaux from Scaynes Hill Cakes, I have no idea what happened except to say that it happened when I was fiddling with my phone in my pocket; frightened the life out of me when number 1 Resident Bottomist and Naturist Dr S  texted me around midnight to tell me, so next time I’m down in East Sussex I’ll pop in for a brownie.