Driving over to Cellardyke today I noticed that as you approach some towns, on the countdown to the 30 mph sign there are rumble-strips on the road: at 300m there are three strips, at 200m two, and one at 100m before you enter the town. It’s like braille for cars!
Jane and I drove over to Cellardyke in two cars, in convey, with our sofa-bed split between us, disassembled, like some comfy Frankenstein’s monster. Thanks to (an inheritance of) Dad’s socket set I was able to reassemble the settee in time for lunch and watching the rugby. It was a very poor TV signal, it looked as though Scotland had lost.
It was a rather lazy day in the house this afternoon: I reassembled the sofa-bed, we hung a picture, we cleared away the carpet offcuts, I hoovered, Jane filled the dishwasher … we packed the cars and came home. Not long before we’ll be able to stay there overnight, and not have to pack up the car with pots and pans, tools and a vacuum cleaner, a stereo and a host of other heavy objects. Soon.
But then there’s the garden to sort out …
