Cheers

I decided to go home after ‘Yes Minister’ on Thursday Night.
The roads were empty and I needed to be in the dark, peace of my home.
Arrived by midnight, the old git and I had words – of course – and then I fell into bed. Into my big, soft bed. His feet at the end of it. My pillows still with the indentation of my head from the weekend.
The sound of rain outside. The window open so I could here the splash of rain drops on the oak leaves.

Friday was spent mending things. Delivering bags to Brighton, delivering spectacles to the optician, delivering vitamin ‘e’ to my daughter. Delivering one liners to my neighbour and delivering a bag full of produce I bought from the best little farm shop in Sussex.
Apart from the greenest spinach, golden beetroot and hunks of local cheese, the resident French pastry chef makes loaves with holes in – certainly makes them left fattening – plus I was given two free croissants. One almond, one chocolate which I ate in huge biting mouthfuls slurped down with delicious coffee made by the man who knows how to grind down the beans, and me, to a grade less than coarse.
We sat up till two watching documentaries about Californian musicians with all our contemporaries playing delicious music from The Eagles to Ry Cooder. Neither of us could sleep on account of the music running round our heads and my past skipping the light fandango.
This morning, without any warning, my body decided to clear the little room.
Out went old clothes.
Out went years of old scripts.
Out went toys.
Out went the dust.
Out went three boxes of books.
Out went the past to make way for the present.
I washed relevant towels, I showered, I ironed everything that need to be spruced up.
I dusted and plumped, I shifted and vacuumed.
And now the little room doesn’t looks quite that little, there’s even room for all the stuff I’ll be bringing from the flat.
Thank you all from LV to Rob for all my messages and support. The eye is getting better, I’m sure all will become crystal clear when the move is out of the way.
It’s now 00.22. I opened a little bottle of champagne for myself, and toasted myself in the kitchen. One and a bit glasses just enough to knock me out before tomorrows show.
London is quiet and lovely. I shall miss this flat like nobodies bizness but I now know it’s time to move on.
I feel like I’m at the end of a holiday. I just want to pack up and get home.
But all in good time, all in good time.