A Winter’s Tale

Well, it is another thing I’ve got to do this winter. And there was definitely a nip in the air. Mum spent some time a few years back writing up reminiscences of her childhood in a few notebooks. Shamefully enough, I haven’t read them fully though a quick dip through them has whetted my appetite. The high point of the war for the Gatehouse home guard seemed particularly noteworthy, as they pursued an untethered barrage balloon across the fields while it drifted on, bringing down telephone lines across the whole area.
But tonight, I have other things on my hands. To London I must go in the morning. I’ve been telt - and at such notice that the sleeper was selt oot! So it was going to have to be an outrageously early flight to keep it within the budget allowance - 06:15 or something ridiculous. I whined at the travel service that there must be a later one which was still allowed. There is. 08:50. That’s more like it. Well, I’ve got to look after myself. I had a chesty cough, didn’t you know?