Monday 29th June 2015

Sunday.

And I think it is fair to say, that on Sunday my enthusiasm finally ran out. I could not be bothered to do anything much, maybe listen to the radio, edit some shots, and the usual, but go out, visit Nan? No.

I think the treadmill of work, which, and let's be frank about this, is not that hard for me, but even still, it has worn me down, to the point where I now feel I really need the two weeks off. I am really counting the days and minutes to Friday when we set off. But before then: Sunday.

After the glory that was Saturday's weather, Sunday was a dull and drab affair. It even rained some in the afternoon, cats came in complaining that their lovely fur was all damp. Or I guess, or imagine what they were saying.

Even though it was only yesterday, quite what I did to while the day away is a mystery to me. All I know is that soon it was lunch, eaten in the cool lunchtime out on the patio. Jools, who was inspired and worked for five hours gardening, the opposite of me. The garden looks a picture, although we are still unsure of what to do with it come the autumn, and thoughts are still on the 'footballer's wives' fountain, which will be road tested when we come home towards the end of July.

Jools went to see Nan at three, and I stayed behind to cook dinner: the full roast chicken dinner, with chestnut stuffing, Yorkshire puddings, roast potatoes and steamed veggies. I had bought a bottle of Prosecco the day before, and it went down very well with dinner. Stephen Fry accompanied dinner too, with his desert island discs, which was a real treat.

Which gave us an hour to prepare for the 7th and final part of Jonathon Strange, which was rather wonderful again, and Sunday evenings won't be the same now it is over.

Ad so was the weekend, but for me, just three working days ahead, and then. HOLIBOBS.