Windmill Hill redux

Windmill or no windmill, he said, life would go on as it had always gone on--that is, badly.

The gathering continues, in full sun. Board meeting, Wardley mapping pt 3, Powerful words, retrospective. The day is marred by a lack of tomatoes & mushrooms at breakfast, a pathetic collection of sandwiches at lunch, and the precipitate decomposition of the team at teatime. No one will stay the night, despite us having paid for four rooms.

Steve drops Lucy, Aslak, and me at Taunton station. We catch the 16:33 to Paddington, finding a table and covering it with snacks and drinks. Little over an hour later I’m getting off at Swindon, getting a lift from Jol to his house - which I’m seeing for the first time.

It’s a great space that he’s taking a lot of care of. The narrow garden is extremely long - eighty feet of gently sloping, south facing lawn and beds. He has a pack of heritage vegetable seeds to keep him busy.

Mum arrives and we go to Diwali, an excellent Indian/Nepali restaurant. We order too much, and it’s all excellent.