The Dome

This is a view of the bar in the Dome Restaurant in George St from the lobby, wherein I was stood waiting while his Lordship went to the little boys' room.
It's a grand lobby but not a big one, so you might well ask how, as he left, he could fail to notice me as I stood in the middle of it in my red snowball jacket taking photos to pass the time.
But miss me he did and as I waited for what seemed a lifetime, he looked for me outside and then gave up and walked home. I gave up too, realising he must have walked past me. We met in a frosty silence back at the Meadows.

I must conclude that either I've lost weight to the point of invisibility or His Lordship needs his eyes tested. Oh how I wish it were the former!

Later this afternoon we have been invited by the new owners of our old castle for a cup of tea and to see what they have done to put their own stamp on the house.
It may well be a bitter sweet visit. Rationally, I know that it is going to be very different and probably unrecognisable, but emotionally it is the house to which I will forever be most attached. I hope I can cope sensibly.

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