Meltdown

And I swear to God I saw an angel hand attend you
But that was just the dancing of the light
No mortal or immortal did deliver or defend you
All hands have forsaken you tonight

I sleep through till 7. There’s a workbook to be finished by 12, somewhat impeded by BT switching mum’s service to fibre at 9:30. Still, I get it done and Sal gives me a virtual thumbs up.

Mum and I eat spag bog and then recline in the sunny garden. We put the sun shade up it’s so warm. And then a sticky train to Paddington and a packed rush hour tube to Kings Cross (courtesy a signal failure at Farringdon).

I drink a G&T in the sun outside KGX and manage to bag an unreserved seat at a table in the quiet coach. Many others are left sitting on the floor, as we trundle north and the sun incandesces down the sky towards the horizon.

The train is still busy as we pull out of Alnmouth. Grim.