Thursday 5th August 2021

Four years ago, Daniel Farke took control of his first game as Norwich manager. City came from behind to draw 1-1 at Fulham. Our striker, brought off the bench to score, waves his shirt in Farke's face to remind the new manager of who he was. Oliveria didn't stay much longer.

So, it's easy to forget how far Norwich have come in those four years; two promotions and a relagation after a season in which pretty much the whole squad was changed. And now we have another season in the top flight ahead. Well, in a week's time, at least.

But for now, it is Thursday, and another day battling the evil that is IT, and aother morning where it is revealed that thei latest fix hadn't worked, but the error message had, so, not sure if that's progress.

Jools was up and about, as she had her last day before a week off, so had to be 100% up to date by the time she finished. She showered and dressed, then left at six fifteen. I had been barely up for twenty minutes, and my eyes were still red and itchy.

But there was something to look forward to, as Jen, Sylv and John were coming to collect me at midday to take me and Jools out for lunch. We were to go to a chippy in Hythe, and feast on the fruits of the sea, fried in lard.

So, that was my focus.

But there was also the wonderful loaf I baked, and the last dregs of the jar of nutella; should I have that or fruit for breakfast?

Toast and chocolate spread it was then.

I did have fruit mid-morning, so wasn't very hungry by the time they stopped outside the house, but the drive put an edge to my hunger. And Jen was driving, with me guiding her to Hythe.

Along and down Jubilee Way: did you see the fireworks last night, Jen asks?

What fireworks?

For the new ferry.

What new ferry?

Yes, new ferry, and hundreds of people out along the prom at ten in the evening to see the ship arrive and fireworks go off.

We went to bed at nine, I said.

So, there is a new ferry, cost quarter of a billion quid, and looks like the one it replaces. Or something.

Up Shakespeare Cliffe, overtaking a train of lorries and trucks, I take photos because that's what I do, much to John's amusement.

I direct Jen to Folkestone, then up past Dollands Moor and the golf course, over the down and into Hythe, round the narrow twisty bends and into town where we find a parking spot at the old Lidl, which seems to have closed. The small town already has a large Waitrose and a Sainsbury's, which shows the town's demographic.

We walk to the high street, and along to the chippy; a table for fve is tricky, we'd have to wait.

We wait, and have a table for four with an extra chair. Jools arrives and we order food and drink.

When the meals and drinks came, the five plates and drinks filled the table, but the food was good, golden and the fish fresh and white as fresh snow under the cruspy batter.

Jools has to rush back to work, so the four of us amble dwn the high street, Sylv diving into shop after shop to look for a bargain.

I really should be getting back to work, I say, though I don't feel like it. In fact, am pooped.

We drive back to St Maggies, and they drop me off at the end of the street. I walk home and find that instead of going back to work, I go upstairs to lay on and then in bed, as dots appeared before my eyes signifying a migraine on the way.

I sleep for an hour or som, it was just before five, so I pack up the work computer and tidy the house up, ready for when Jools comes back home.

We have a coffee, talk about our days, although for Jools no work now until the 16th, and a trip up north again with Jen and Sylv on Monday.

We have cheese and crackers for supper, still using the cheese we bought two visits ago from Preston, the last of the real ale and mustard flavoured cheddar. It had a lot of flavour.

Outside it began to throw it down again, another drenching for the garden, and another day on which we didn't have to water it.

Strange summer.