As I got up (far too early) so both Morgan and Bailey moved into the warm spot in the bed that I'd just vacated. I made toast, watched an episode of "Shameless", then set off to work through a rather bright morning.
As I drove I listened to the radio. There was some drivel
about how some young woman has bought a tumbledown farm and is trying to run
the place on horse power. She was being interviewed from the middle of a field
of stallions and whilst horses can drag ploughs about, this woman was far more keen
to tell the world that she had a three-year-old son than she was to explain how
a field of horses might generate enough (or any) electricity to run the
house she was planning to rebuild.
Mind you she admitted that water was pouring through the roof whenever it rained, so maybe getting leccie into it was perhaps a tad daft right now.It soon became clear that this woman clearly had money to burn to be taking on a derelict farm and trying to restore it, and rather than getting annoyed (again) at people with more money than sense I turned over to my MP3 player and sang along to "Ivor Biggun" songs as I drove to Tunbridge Wells.
I stopped off in Goudhurst for a Skyland and a QrewZee (as Munzee-ers are wont to do), then carried on to work. I'd not wanted to work today; I seem to work so many weekend days. In between doing my thing I kept looking out the window at a rather glorious day.
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