Thursday 7th September 2017

Another day working from home, like I have any choice without a passport. So, being grounded means I do get to spend day after day in the house, working from the dining room table, if only when the cats let me of course.

Jools is up at five, and although I hear the alarm go off, I promise I intend to get up with her, I seem to fall back asleep and dream of coffee until I hear the car being driven out of the drive. She's even put the bins out, and put the coffee in the pot so all I have to do is put it on the cooker and turn on the gas. I really don't deserve her.

So I have coffee. And another coffee. And breakfast and so am ready for the first meeting of the day. I really have been spoilt these last few weeks of work, what with holidays and the fallow period between projects, meaning I have very little to distract me, but Thursday was back to normal with three meetings, last four hours, so back in practice, and try to concentrate now, Ian!

I should coco, but others have more on their plates than I; semi-retirement, family illness, troublesome customers. I could go on. I am just happy when the meetings are finished I can go and make myself a sandwich, boil the kettle for a brew and have the radio on.

Outside the sun is shining, and the sunflowers bobbing along in the light breeze, and I think that when work is over I should go out on the hunt for more sloes. I feel like I have been cooped up in the house for two days, so should get out to stretch my legs.

And so once work is done, I take myself and a plastic bag on a short legstretcher over the fields to Fleet House where I find a single but laden sloe bush, so get most of the berries off it.

The fields have all now been harvested, even the dried beans, and so with ploughing and harrowing now underway, it seems preparations for winter and beyond is well under way. The sun that I had been looking at all through the morning had now been replaced by gathering clouds, which were getting darker, and on the breeze from the west there was even a hint of rain.

On the narrow path at the other side of the fields, I find one laden bush, heavy with sloes, so pick another half pound, but no more were discovered.

I walk to the pig's copse, to find they are long gone. Long gone to market, or worse, one suspects. I take one shot at the top of the dip, without going down it as it seemed it would rain harder any minute, so I turn for home where there would be a warm kettle waiting to be boiled.

More aubergine to prepare and cook for dinner, to go with the leftover pasta salad. And wine. It was a two, if not three glass day. Plus one to slurp when cooking.

Jools arrives home, tired. We have dinner, talk about our days, and apart from the long hours for her, things are OK. Bad news is that we are out of ice cream, so just coffee whilst we watch another Who Do You Think You Are. And the day was done, time for bed, but then it will be Friday, and then the weekend.