Monday 23rd April 2018

St George's Day.

Another royal baby born.

Civil list increased.

Crown manufacturers said to be happy.

Last week it seemed summer had arrived; long hot sunny days, and shorter humid nights. We knew it wouldn't last, but it felt cooler on Sunday, and after the early morning sunshone on Monday, the clouds rilled in and it got colder.

It was almost warm enough to have breakfast outside, but not quite. Anyway there was football to watch, recorded from Sunday, highlights of 5 league games. You will be glad to hear that the season is drawing to a close, Norwich have just two more games, but club football will cling on to the end of May, then there will be warm up games, England have two, and then the World Cup. I do not intend to watch much of it, just when it is on and I have nothing else to do, orchids, churches, butterflies and the garden will all come first.

Brave words, I know.

Anyway, get dressed and then to work.

I have meetings, of course, with my boss and manager. Things said, then down to replying to mails, before lunch and another meeting.

There is news of a new royal baby. I don't mind, but another one born to a life of opening bridges and launching ships, and holidays in Scotland and Norfolk. In the 21st century, they serve no purpose and should be phased out, but Brexiteers would like to give them a new Royal Yacht in which they can sail the sea selling the idea of a empire 2.0. I wish them well, but wish they would support themselves, you know.

The meeting drags on for over two hours, and a meeting via Skype is never good as people stray from the microphone meaning their voices and words fade to nothing.

That ends, and with loose ends tied up, I can pack up and go up to the spare room to do a session on the cross trainer. It's been two weeks in which I did one workout, so back on the grind. I pick up a perky selection of tunes and put on my trainers. And off we go.

I do half an hour, good enough, and am hot and breathless, but got it done.

Dinner is insalata and corn bread. Jools comes home, and with the wind whistling out the back, we're not going for a walk that evening.

I have wine, Jools has cider, we toast our good fortune and eat.

A quiet evening, it is cool and gets dark earlier than in the last week. I follow football via Twitter, Jools goes to bed to read. The cats are scattered about the house, snoozing.