Blackbird singing in the dead of night

I don't know if that was what woke me, but something did, at 5am. Thereafter my sleep was fitful. Fortunately this afternoon was quiet at work.

When I came home (by bus, because my bag was so heavy) I had to book various events because my sister is coming to stay, and everything must be pre-booked because of CoVid. There was also TV to watch, and then we had to talk about going to the West Highland next month. Steve wants to break the journey, but none of our friends are going to be around for a stopover, CoVid notwithstanding. In the end I found somewhere to stay on the way up in Greystoke, Cumbria (images of Tarzan, legend of Greystoke spring to mind. Now, what was that legend?)

And now it's bedtime and I've said yes to extra work on Friday, when I was really looking forward to free time. Ah well, it'll pay for 40% of a night at a pub in Greystoke.

The school which is attached to the nursery where I work is a faith school. The plan is to hold a socially distanced outdoor mass in the car park tomorrow. It's not so far from the building site. Might be a bit noisy. Might be a bit rainy. Might be a bit like an episode from Father Ted, you know, the one with a mobile altar on a milk float.
Sadly, singing will not be permitted. That's usually the best part.