7am work and a WHOPPER for breakfast.
That tasted sweet.
It will be tomatoes on toast in a couple of weeks.
Meanwhile the mad cat attempted to hunt a pigeon that was sitting on the shed roof. The pigeon was actually larger than the mad cat.
It was a genius idea, failed only by the oversight that the pigeon could fly, whereas the mad cat can’t.
Never mind, luv.
The ride off on the Trail was leisurely. I had a little more time to spare than usual.
It was my first swim since Saturday. I’m always amazed at how any absence leaves your body slightly out of shape for the splash around.
I made it back to base for more work.
I deliberately avoided Chilcot all day.
Not very newshound, but it would just make me so incredibly ANGRY.
And so I watered the garden instead.
The daisies are starting to look half decent, Comrades.
Wednesday evening was a working evening.
Plus a little planning ahead of a week in South London starting tomorrow.
Goodo.