What's the story, morning glory?

Today felt like the first proper day of the holidays! We slept in till nearly 9. The new summer weight duvet is perfect. We are too wimpish to manage a whole night with just a sheet.

There were eleven morning glory flowers out this morning. So I blipped these three. Steve's sister and I chatted, and I did a bit more packing and washing, then we set off across country to meet some of Steve and Rosie's long lost cousins at a country pub. Cousin Tony emigrated under the "£10 Pom scheme" in 1963, and married there and raised a family. CleanSteve has blipped him and me, for today's journal. Tony shared his competition-winning secrets, having whipped out a compact Sony and informed us that he'd won it, and a trip to Chamonix, from Aus, in a competition! It seems you have to have a neat turn of phrase. Might try that some time...

We got on well, and even agreed to meet in Scotland next week, as that is where we'll both be! Tony's wife, Christine, had been to a convent school, as had I, so we had something in common straight away. Takes one to know one? Neither of us have ever been to a reunion, or are likely to attend one.

As for me, I don't normally have Sunday lunch, but the roast beef and yorkshire pud, plus bread and butter pudding, means that I'll never have to eat again, which will be handy over the next few weeks.

Now, my bags are packed, I'm ready to go. I've tried blowing my horn and suggesting we go now, but CleanSteve won't have any of it. So, it's another sweltering night, and then goodbye Highfield road, hello House on the Bog! The house sitters arrive tomorrow, to spoil Bomble rotten.