Upwardly mobile

The Mobility vehicle she sat in, like a burnished throne,
Rolled up to the path, where it met the grass
Held up by brickwork wrought with fruited vines
From which a golden Nikon lens peeped out

(With apologies to TS Eliot)

So this is the Aged P, first proper outing on her new scooter which can be pulled apart into four easy pieces and re-assembled to become a transport of delight.

I think she looks rather noble here. She had a great time in Hall Place in Bexley, zooming around the extensive grounds, leaving tyre tracks in the grass and terrorising the Canada geese.

As for the rest of the day, it was standard fayre - drinking too much tea, bizarre conversation which I have now come to accept as the norm, and taking her home a bit tired but happy. Today's gem, as we rolled through the Kent countryside was as follows:

"They don't have as much countryside up North as we have in the South do they?"
"Actually mum I think they have more than us".
"Like what?"
"Well, you know - Lake District, Yorkshire Moors, the Dales, Pennines ...."
"Yes well that's not countryside. I mean it's all wild and barren".

For countryside read chocolate box, I suspect, and a chain link fence and a tea room must be part of the picture.

But the BIG news of the day was that my footie team got promoted from League One, winning away from home as other results went kindly for us. Gave me a buzz. I spent a lot of time standing on the terraces in the seventies and eighties, and my grandfather's dying words were to ask about how the team had played the previous night. So this is one thing that is bred in the bone and when all goes well, I feel happy inside. Maybe need to celebrate tonight.

"What shall I do now? What shall I do?
I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street
With my hair down, so.