Saturday 15th October 2016

We slept long and well. Jools had already been shopping, and so we laid in bed until gone seven. I could hear the Robins and Starlings singing for their breakfast, demanding some. As so are the cats. It is nearly full daylight by the time we pull on our dressing gowns and slippers, going downstairs where there is a scene of rabbit murder. Seems like Mulder had caught and killed and butchered a baby rabbit, blood and guts spread around the living room, which was nice. And then, apparently having chocked on fur or a bone, he then brought the rabbit and his dinner up all round the kitchen. Also which was nice.

That he wasn't hungry, and instead lay on the black chair in the back room, barely stirring whilst Molly and Scully ignore the carnage and meow for breakfast.

We clean up, put on some coffee then ponder the great questions of our age; what to do with Saturday. Well, as it turned out, we had to go to Gillingham to pick up a parcel that could not be delivered. You would think that there should be a nearer depot that 40 odd miles away in the Medway towns, but no. So, once we had drunk another coffee, dunked croissants in the coffee, we could go out.

Over the past few weeks, it was clear the car was not well. But by yesterday, it was in a very poor state, Jools had put in non-supermarket fuel and some cleaning agent, but this made no difference, as under gentle acceleration, the engine spluttered and shuddered. We had hoped that what Jools had done would fix it.

But the car got us to Gillingham, turning off the main road into a faceless a dreary industrial estate until we came to the depot. Jools gets out gets her flower supports (don't ask), and we are free to go. But what is this? A garden centre?

Well yes, just a few minutes away, and ideas for our new back garden if the guys ever start it. Anyway, I stay in the car to loisten to Huey, and jOols goes window shopping, but finds it a dreadful experience, as the shop is already decked out for Christmas. So we leave.

My plan was to wander round some of the orchid sites, seeing what they are like out of season, and from Gillingham The Larches is just down the hill, once you get over the M2 anyway. So we drive out of the town, with most traffic heading the other way to the various shops and supermarkets. Not for us.

Down Bluebell Hill we pull off, and the car is really causing us concern. So we look in the manual, find the number of the dealer and call them to see about booking it in. In a surprise move, they can fit us in that morning, so before we had even stepped off the road into the woods, we were packing our stuff away and driving back to Dover.

Jools says there is no point in both us going, so she drops me off at home so I can mow the back lawn, whist she takes the sick car to be repaired. I am not complaining, I have only mowed the lawn twoice since coming back from Japan, this being the third, and it looks OK, but with the yellow rattle seed down and spread, I think I had better cut while I have the chance. I am not halway through when Jools comes back, the car fixed: a box had been changed and all is better.

But it is too late really to go anywhere, and I have the lawn to finish, then do lunch and the football doesn't listen to itself. In fact pretty soon after I have finished the lawn, rain starts, and is on and off the rest of the afternoon.

Norwich are at home, and beat Rotherham to go top of the league. Hurrah. The rest of the games blur as I try to stay awake on the sofa with Molly at my feet snoring gently. A fine way to spend the afternoon.

And that is that, really. We have burgers for dinner, and beer, which is fine if unhealthy food. But means we are all done and sitting down ready to watch The Don on the i player.