Thursday 20th December 2018

Back home from my travels. Not just for this week, but for the year. Not so much travel as in some years, but now when I do travel, work piles up like snowdrifts on a misremembered Christmas Eve.

But I have a day at home, for the most part, though there would be more driving in the afternoon.

As soon as I woke up I knew an allergy attack was coming. I could breathe, but I knew. And soon as I got up and went downstairs the sneezing started, and then the congestion. Coupled with my back, I was pretty miserable. But that's par for the course.

I am thinking that the dust gets into my system though athletes foot, which had flared up at the same time. I would treat it and see what happened. But not taking antihistamines meant the stuff in throat and nose did not set like concrete, and was just about livable with.

Which was nice.

Anyway, I had meetings. One with my boss for which I was supposed to have prepared for, just as well I had a few minutes to update my presentation.

That done, I was down to clearing the e mails from Wednesday and trying not to get sucked in ny the new ones tumbling in.

And that kept me quiet until half twelve, when I had to pack up to drive to Canterbury for a meeting with our pension advisor.

Now, Canterbury is a fine place, full of 1500 or more years of Catholic and Anglican history, narrow lanes, timber framed buildings. And it is those lanes that is the trouble; fine for medieval horse and cuts, but no use for 21 century delivery trucks and modern traffic flows. So to avoid jams, I drive up the A2 all the ways to the M2 junction, then up Thanet Way before taking the road through Blean to the university where the advisor's office is.

It is a glorious day, full of sunshine, long shadows and branches leafless. And with the radio on it was like I was on holiday.

Anyway, I arrive, wait for Jools then we go in to see Chris. Things are in turmoil. Values of our investments have gone down, and with Brexit looking, no way of knowing what the future will bring. SO we talk about things, and apart from some balancing of investments, we are done in 45 minutes.

We drive back out of the city to Whitstable, then along Thanet Way to Thanet before turning south to Sandwich and home. We arrive home at dusk, another day gone, but with just one more left before we break up for Christmas.

My back and allergies are pushing me to the edge. I am fed up and nothing seems to be working.

Darn it.

But I keep on keeping on.

I cook carbonara for dinner, with proper pancetta, and it is glorious. Makes even I smile. As does the wine.

We listen to Marc Riley on the wireless. It is the final show of the year, so mcu good music and banter.

And at nine I go to bed. Hoping sleep will come.