Friday 4th September 2020

Friday. Already.

That's what happens when you have a four day week, thanks to a bank holiday.

Maybe we could have a bank holiday every week.....

Jools is off to work again, so she is up before the larks at five, I am not, I lay in bed until just before six, when it is just beginning to get light.

I have coffee, think about the cross trainer and decide to put it off to Monday.

Just not clear which Monday, clearly.

Jools leaves for work at seven fifteen, and I am already setting up the work laptop for the morning meeting. There is no gossip, nor much news. But Aarhus is still locked down, travel from there to any other company site is still banned.

But we can have online meetings.

Yay.

Then there is another auditors meeting. There are no words to describe what a three hour meeting in which auditors talk about audits. This will make it eight hours now we have done this in the last two weeks. My brain melts, and tries to escape through my ears.

And then my weekly catch up with the boss. That takes another hour. I had been in meetings for four hours and forty minutes.

I have a cheese toastie for lunch, another brew, then take up my place on the sofa with the work laptop so I could work and keep an eye on Le Tour.

A flat stage, into a diagonal wind on the final 40km, which wreaks havoc on the pelaton. The race finishes a full hour earlier than scheduled as it was raced at an avergae speed of about 50km/h.

Time to pack up for the weekend, prepare dinner.

Dinner is Scotch Egg salad and fresh bread made by myself.

It was fabulous.

And that meant it was the weekend; listen to music, write and suddenly at half seven, I was tired. But no time for that, as Jools' nephew, George came round. George has been living in Cambodia for the last two years. He bought a beach bar, got a girlfriend. He's doing well, but there is only enough work for his girlfriend, so he has come home to work, and see the family. Of course.

George is someone who lights up the room when he walks in, a wonderful young man.

Twenty to nine: time for bed.

Rock, and indeed, roll.