Au coucher du soleil

I was worried that I'd be too bored without a market stall to run on Saturday! My fears proved groundless, as I slept very late (CS went off as usual to market) then got up and hung out loads of washing; made up a parcel of clothing to send to my mother in Scotland; had a bath; then ran to town to meet a friend for lunch.

We lunched in the Retreat, where we used to lunch in the 90s when we worked together in a now-gone publishing house; then made our way to a cafe to have tea and cakes. By the time I got to the post office, it was long closed. The ticket machine at the station, where I had to collect some tickets, was broken. The library had texted me earlier to say that a book was in, but by the time I saw the message, it was two minutes to the library's closing time! I walked home with the parcel.

Made honey-nustard salmon for supper. Snapped the street sunset while it was marinading. After supper, packed for my imminent holiday, whilst watching a documentary about Penelope Keith. One of the favoured holiday-luggage pieces apoears to have been wee-ed on by a cat. We have only one cat. Why didn't she wee on the utilitarian grey nylon holdall instead? Now I'll have to take that one.