Happiness is a warm cat

Bomble loves our dining room sofa when the sun's on it, as it was this morning.

I jumped put of bed at seven this morning, imagining I'd heard the phone ringing. False alarm, and no need for me to accompany the nursery kids on a trip. I'd volunteered last night, knowing there might be staff shortages, but fortunately I wasn't needed.

That left the day free for packing. I'm off to a carnival in Northern Germany tomorrow, and my case is smaller this year, because I'm flying Ryanair. I know, shoot me now... next time I'll take the train.

I went into town to buy long Johns. They've been rebranded as technical base layers and cost £14 in the sale. Yikes. But I can't be doing with the old lady version. If my jeans get holes, they'll show through. Most of my jeans get holes because I work in nursery, on my knees.

So here I am now, repacking for the tenth time. Keep finding more stuff. It will be interesting to see how people on the Tube in London behave tomorrow, now that CoVid19, as the Coronavirus is now known, has reached the capital. It was only ever a matter of time, once it got to Brighton.