Sorted

Today was the day that we finally got our shattered window replaced. It was like that for almost 6 months, but it was especially pretty in the mornings with the sun shining through the millions of cracks. It was in February, in the middle of lockdown, so nothing could be done about it anyway.

The window just spontaneously shattered with a loud BANG! No reason. The window chaps (four of them - one to fetch things from the van, one to hold the ladder, one to offer advice, and one to do the work) said it was not uncommon. It’s called ‘suicide glass’ in the industry, apparently.

After her gym session, JR went off for her yearly eye test, and I took Archie to the vet for his little embarrassing recurring problem that he doesn’t want mentioned. We took the bus there, and walked back.

It was so hot, but we could choose the shady side of the street all the way. I had several sit downs, but boy - it was hard going (8, 276 steps). We both fair plodded up the last bit of the road. The only thing that kept me going up the hill was the thought of a Magnum in the back garden while sitting down.

I listened to several podcasts - Lyse Doucet ‘A Wish for Afghanistan’ - she’s been reporting from there for the BBC for over 30 years. Also, a couple of ‘Conversations’ - an excellent ABC series. 

Then I watched the tennis - well done, young Emma!