Truck

Not my usual Friday morning.  TT and I were going to a funeral, so I left him to get up with BB and to have the job of chivvying him along to get ready and out to school, while I got myself ready. 

It was a lovely service for a most lovely lady.  We entered the church to the most wonderful choral singing, which continued throughout the service.  It made me feel that I was in Westminster Abbey, not just a local hurch.

BB then had to head off to work and I headed home to sort out some lunch for BB, before meeting up with a friend for a blether over a cuppa and a cake.  Except she declined cake, so it was just me that ate cake!  It was delicious.

I had to stop off at the supermarket on my way home to purchase some burgers and rolls for BB to take to Scouts, as they were having a campfire.  This negated the need to feed him before he went to scouts.  Once I had dropped him off I went for a walk.  It seemed like a lovely evening, however the sky darkened and I walked through two hail showers, with a third just as I got home.  I came back via the part of my running route of last Friday – the day that I fell.  I walked very carefully in and around the area that I fell.

BB came home from Scouts feeling like he had eaten too much, but by the time he went to bed, he was asking for a  snack.

I walk and run past this old truck pretty regularly, but I don’t think I have ever blipped it.