Monday 28th October 2019

Last Saturday, we sat in the garden of a Hungarian restaurant in Houston, Texas, and ate brisket hash. It was 25 degrees in the shade, and like summer.

24 hours later, and we were back in the UK, ten degrees cooler, and nearly November. It began to get dark at about four, and was no daylight by five. And for the next six weeks, daylight will get rarer and rarer. And then the days lengthen again.

But it is approaching deep mid-winter, the salad days of summer seem a lifetime away.

We both didn't go to bed until half nine on Sunday, and slept though until six on Monday, thus apparently killing the jetlag in one swoop.

Yay.

But Jools had to go to work, less than 20 hours after landing back at Heathrow; didn't seem fair, but she has only a limited amount of holiday to use.

And as I have the task of collecting the cats later, I have to take Jools to work. But at least as the clocks have gone back, it is dylight when we leave the house just before seven, and take the coast road to Hythe.

Dropping Jools off, I drive back to Dover. And as I drove along the Alkham Valley road, sunlight poured through the mist rising from the fields, and illuminated the horse chestnuts, whose leaves were already turning to gold.

I should have been concentrating on driving, but how could your heart not be stirred by such sights?

I drive on through through the roadworks as Kearsney Abbey, then up Whitfield Hill to Tesco. As we had nothing to eat. Nothing fresh anyways.

I had to search for a trolley that did not need a coin to free it from its brethren. I do that, as we have returned from our holibbs with no cash. In coins at least.

I get loads of stuff, mostly fresh food, and am on my way home for quarter to nine, packing stuff away and making breakfast, so that at quarter to ten, I can go to collect the cats.

hey are at a new place, and once I arrive, I wait in the office whilst the two prisoners were rounded up and put in their baskets The cost of the cat hotel is now close to the cost of our holiday, but they look well. though they do tell me that they haven't been fed in like 19 days.

So, driving back to Walmer, then up the Deal road, the cats sing songs of freedom. And food.

Once backed onto the drive, I get out and free the cats. They run to next door to do some gardening, then back inside, meowing loudly for food. Which I give them, because its been nearly three weeks.

Waiting for me is the stack of mail from Mum's house.

I make a brew and sit on the sofa, then begin opening them one by one, reading the letter, then calling each up in turn to call each company up and tell them the news that Mum had passed, and they would have to wait for probate for the monies they feel are owed.

Not taxing, but that takes three hours. I make notes and file the letters on the floor. For now.

At four, I go to pick Jools up from work, otherwise she would have had to get the bus or a train back.

By the time she came out at five, it was just about dark, even though the sky was clear.

Welcome to winter.

Back home, I make fajitas, with stir fry veg in wholemeal tortillas. I use the seasoning and chilli sauce we bought at the weekend, and its all pretty good.

And they day just peters out. We have to stay up to at least nine, so we're up at a sensible time in the morning. We go to bed and are soon joined by cats.