No rest for the wicket-keeper, I am up, I am cooking sausages for breakfast and for a snack on the way, as I have very little money. But seeing as someone has bought my ticket, I will go, and be grateful, nice to have a change of scene, helps my mind, because the traumatic stress of the Jersey deanery and BBC stunts still lingers.
I am not going as early as usual, because our local transport is affected by engineering works at the moment, so I leave here in about 20 minutes, showered dressed and fed.
It is cold and clear and a red sunrise is lighting up the bay, the cat has had it's milk and is sitting on the decking, watching for mice.
The former name of this blog and the name of it's sister blog are to do with my sense of humour, which I hope to keep to the end, which appears to be ever more rapidly approaching. At least I laughed, and I laughed at the people who were destroying me. Don't forget that.