Monday 4th September 2023

I am not going to Denmark. This week.

After all.

Monday morning, and after coffee, I went out to check the moth trap.

Heavy dew had fallen and some smaller ones were stuck in the Perspex flaps, so I freed those then went around snapping the others who were sheltering on the egg boxes beneath.

The day had begun misty and the sky angry red, as dust from the Sahara is spreading north and will lead to spectacular sunrises and sunsets through the week and to sand on cars too.

I went back to the house to sort out the office, log on and see what chaos was ahead.

Meetings and more meetings.

While outside the sun rose into a clear blue sky, and temperatures rose as the Indian Summer arrived.

Of course, its not a "real" Indian summer, that comes, apparently, after the first frosts. Too warm for those on the Kent coast, so its simply a return to summer, and a garden full of butterflies and orange and red flowers.

Back when we used to watch Gardener's World, Monty would start the first show of September waxing lyrical about the way the September sun falls through the golden petals of the late summer flowers.

He wasn't wrong.

Not much really to report, just the usual chaos and clear up, day after day, but with the hope that one day it will be a real step forward.

Dinner was going to be light, with Jools doing a fitness session in the pool first, but she has hurt her hip, and a dreadful day at work meant she called to say she was coming straight home.

So I got out two tubs of tagine from the freezer, popped them in the microwave, warmed up the leftover bread and steamed the leftover cobs of corn, and soon we had a fine dinner indeed, within 25 minutes.

Was work always so draining, or are we just to old and tired for all this bullshit? Thoughts are turning to retirement sooner rather than later.

No football to watch, just listen to myself on the music podcast as Iay in bed, sounding bored as I spoke. In my head I don't sound bored......