Thursday 8th October 2015

Monday.

And just lie the weatherman said, autumn arrived. We awoke to leaden skies, the wind blowing, and it being dark until half six. Autumn really had arrived. But I had been awake earlier, as one of the daft cats, probably Sullylicious, brought a mouse in for us, and as we were in bed, asleep, brought it up to the bedroom, onto the bed, and let it go under the duvet. I was only aware when the mouse ran up my back! I sat upright, switched the light on to see the mouse vanish over the end of the bed. Gone.

Or rather, its still there, in the bedroom, so traps have been set.

Jools makes coffee, then gets ready for bed. I sit on the sofa to watch a recording of the previous day’s football. All exciting stuff, and then there was all the analysis on Brendan’s sacking from Liverpool. Anyway, what with one thing and another, a second coffee, I managed to be ten minutes late for my one to one with my boss. I explained, quite rightly, by pointing out I would be working until midnight, what with travel to DK that day.

And he was happy with that. Anyway, seemed to be. All is OK, and once that is over I can get down to some work, with more coffee and a couple of the shortcakes I made the day before; they’re just too lovely, really. Goes so well with a cuppa.

I order a taxi for just gone two, pack, and tidy up. All is on track to be smooth, then, ten minutes before the taxi is due, Scully brings in a sparrow. Alive. And very upset. As usual, Scully lets it go, then there is her and me chasing this bird around the house, in what in cat world is clearly, high jinx. I do manage to catch the birdie, as the taxi driver looks on, and I dump it out of the window, grab my cases and am out of the door.

Be home Thursday.

The driver complains all the way to the station, I mean I moan, but this guy is a world champion, and half the time I don’t know what he’s on about. I am just glad to get to the station in one piece and out of earshot.

I have half an hour, so find a seat, and in the lea of the station roof, as the rain fell, I read some more of my book, as pleasant as that sounds. The train arrives, I get on, and am settled in, still reading as we pull out some 20 seconds early, and into the pouring rain.

The journey I, and you, know well. The train is quiet, it is a school day, and the little darlings are all still in classes. I left early so I could get dinner somewhere other than the airport, as even though I have a company credit card, I resent the prices they charge at LCY, so once at Stratford I go in search of a place to eat and get a drink, and find a pub I was unaware of, Tap East in the shopping centre. They do food, so I order a burger and a pint of porter, which is powerful and strong, but good. Much better sitting her watching the world go by than in the airport.

Once I had eaten and drank, I caught the DLR to the airport, arriving a minute after 5, meaning I could drop my bag off, go through security and find a place to sit down and read. There are the minted and suave business types around, as well as plenty of NFL fans after the Jets ve Dolphins game at Wembley the day before.

Anyway, I have over and hour to kill, so read by book, by which time I think the gate should be announced. Its not, but I may as well wait for the board to show it for the race to the gate so we can wait some more. All seems mad to me, which it is, really.

It is called, and we wait some more, so that we are about ten minutes late moving off from the stand to the end of the runway. Rain is still falling, so once airbourne, there is a brief look at the City as we pass over the river, then Blighty is lost from sight, until I am due to return on Thursday.

I have the inflight meal, a roll, which is okay, but does mean I won’t be looking for a tube of Pringles at the hotel, once I arrive.

It is no surprise to find it raining in Denmark to, in fact it looks like there has been a lot of rain. Anyway, we land, taxi to the stand, go through immigration, get our bags then I queue at the car hire place for my car. Finding a car in the dark is now easy by the repeated pressing of the key fob until the lights flash revealing my ride for the week, a tiny Mitsubishi thing, that is full just with my small case and me. OK, an hour to Arhus, let’s go!

And thankfully, the roads are quiet, so I can motor along and just wait until the sport billys in their Audis and Bearmer zoom past me. I will stick to the speed limit, because, because I don’t want to lose my licence.

I arrive at the hotel at half eleven, I am pooped, but yet wide awake after the blast up the motorway. So, I surf the net, listen to some radio before I try to sleep, sure that no mouse would stir me from my slumbers.

Tuesday

Twenty past seven I wake up. Oh dearie, dearie, me. I have a shower, get dressed and go down for breakfast, already running half an hour late. Whatever. I have cereal and a bacon roll and coffee. Lots of coffee. And before work can begin, there is the traffic on the ring road to deal with. Now, it seems to surprise some that there is traffic in Denmark; my Mum asked, where are they all going? Work, Ma.

And what I have to look forward to is an eight hour meeting-cum-workshop. Oh how my hear sings. In truth it is for good reasons, and we do some good work along the way, but then again at times it descends into a talking shop.

That done at half five, there is just time to drop my bag at the hotel, freshen up and order a taxi to take me into the city centre to the restaurant that had been booked for us.

I talked footy with the driver, which was very pleasant: he was a Chelski fan, but my memory was far longer than his, remembering the days of the old Shed and the rest. Anyway, we wish each other well, and I go in to wait for the others.

The menu, was not a menu, it was a list of what they would serve us, 5 course, you could choose all 5 or 4 or whatever. So, artichoke soup, some kind of fish, should of pork, cheese but I give the second desert a miss. Each course was small, so we are not stuffed, but although the food was good, some choice would have been good, you know.

My boss gives me a lift back to the hotel, it is half ten, and another whole day has slipped by. How did that happen?