Friday 14th June 2019

Time to go home.

And, I am still asleep when the alarm went off, and I lay there listening to the birds singing outside, and the delivery man dropping off fresh supplies of linen.

Right, no time to waste, so I get up, check the news and pack.

Downstairs, I check out, and have time for breakfast, where there is stewed rhubarb on offer. I have that with some fresh yoghurt and a couple of cups of Joe before I go to the car.

Traffic is light at quarter past six, people were heading to the port, but I drove straight on, onto the motorway and out of town.

It was another fine morning, bright sun shining away in the south east, and the verges full of flowers. Heck, I'm pretty sure I saw my first Danish orchid, a Common Spotted near to the airport, a single spike glimpsed as I zoom by. No time to stop and investigate.

Arrival at the airport is mundane and familiar: drop the car off, walk to the terminal, post the keys into the box at the car hire office, check in my case and walk to security, and after 5 minutes waiting, I am through and finding a place to sit down and relax.

No work mails to deal with, so I delve back into the Stiff Records book, and so time passes quickly.

The plane is full, but I'm in my usual seat. We taxi and take off into the clear sky, Jutland passes below until we cross the coast. We fly over Heligoland, then over Holland, along the coast before striking across the North Sea to Essex.

I read my book all the way, except when breakfast is served. Second breakfast.

It was surprisingly windy in London, so the plan rocked and rolled on final approach, landing on one wheel before lumping down and screeching to a halt.

We had to wait for a spare slot to park, then for the ground crew to make the plane safe. We waited more as the plane next to us was waiting to leave, so we sit there.

Twenty minutes later we are allowed off, onto a bus to take us the two hundred yards to the terminal.

I get my case, dash to the DLR, but it was already quarter to ten, meaning i had missed the early train to Dover.

So I go into Westfield, have a coffee and a large slice of orange drizzle cake from the Turkish Cafe, but decide against window shopping, lest I see something I might want.

The train is on time, and soon I am whizzing home, through Essex, under the river and through Kent.

There was just one taxi waiting, and three passengers. The driver asked where we were all going, and made a route, so took us all, dropping a guy off at the castle, a woman at the prt before taking me home. I give him a fiver tip, and the other two gave him a fiver each. So he came out with more money.

And I got to be home for the weekend.

First thing, I go round the garden to check on what's started to flower, or grow since I was gone. The garden is a colourful riot. I don't know how else to describe it. The law is now a meadow, full of wild flowers, poppies and sea thistle, ox-eyed daisies.

It looks wonderful, and everywhere there are bees and other pollinators buzzing around.

Just like we hoped.

Inside, I make a huge brew, have some fruit and relax.

I should check mails, but can't really find the enthusiasm.

Jools comes home, she says she is going to walk to the village library; did I want to come? No.

Instead, I drive to Tesco to get a bunch of stuff for the weekend, meaning we did not have to go Saturday. Because I had arranged an orchid meet at nine, and that is clearly more important.

Back home, and Jools is gardening, I pack the shopping away, then begin to prepare dinner; the last of the Christmas leftover turkey, half a chorizo, some stir fry, some fresh asparagus and a couple of slices of flaxseeded bread I bought in London.

It was wonderful.

Not because of the wine, either.

There was our weekly dose of Monty to enjoy, before we both went to bed, pooped at half nine.

Phew.