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Back ‘home’.

It was a remarkable trip and I am very grateful to everyone who made it possible. I had been meaning to to visit Hugh, Isobel, Patch, Wilf and Jessie for an age. It was really good to be able to visit Richard at the same time. It was really good to see Richard, and be part of a family who not only do not object to eating what I cook and listen to tales and stories, but who thank me for it! And I must remember to mention young Danny and (I think) Joe, who stopped for several nights.

The prompt to actually book the tickets were prompted by thoughts of the sort of meeting that a Catholic would need to confess, but the truth is, probably, that the meeting was planned never to happen by anyone but me.

I felt really quite rough yesterday with what I assume is Stress Induced Cold Symptoms (or SICS), though I am now coughing and sneezing, but that may just be SIIBS (Sod It I’m Back Syndrome. The stress was largely coming from the Council Tax and missing calls about it and other things, and the fact the Tax is not resolved even now, and I have a court appearance Monday if tomorrow’s processing is not in my favour. On top of that I had a call on the answer service telling me I needed to book at my doctors to give another bloody sample. I have no chance of finding out why until tomorrow. It is most likely to be a lost/mistested sample, but it could be to check something, just possibly serious. I was talking to Isobel and her gardener, as they where digging, when I got the doctor message, and I suddenly felt very, very tired.

On the other hand I also made a massive pot of soup yesterday that all praised, including the youngest. I also managed to work out how to play their Wallace & Grommit CD (though it took a good polish with my t-shirt) and Patch then found their Creature Comforts CD. So I spent several wonderful hours on a comfy sofa in a warm room watching telly, luxuries mostly lacking in my house.

On the train back today I started sat next to an old man in the wrong seat. His actual seat said he would get off at Bristol Parkway. I asked him when we had stopped there. He said he was off at Birmingham. The ticket checker asked him for the 60+ railcard to go with his ticket, and he had never heard of it (he said: Never heard of it! I haven’t been on a train for years!). When we got to Birmingham New Street he still didn’t get off, and there was no spare seat now. He said he was going to Birmingham West (to get a train to Carlisle!). Our train did not stop there. I am sure he did get off, but God knows what happened to him afterwards. God knows what he was doing in Paighton, because I am certain now he was booked from there to Parkway. The most shocking question though is who the hell was responsible for booking him on a journey with so many changes without bothering to check he had a railcard and the ability to understand. I hope he got home.

The three people who got round the same table as me at New Street were Karen and her daughters Abby and Holly, and they were really nice. I got given one of great granny’s cakes within the first five minutes! I did show Holly how to make a flapping bird, so in exchange for feed I repaid with giving them the origami virus!

I got home and had to go straight out again to deliver the wage slip (from Bradford Council) to Bradford Council’s Benefit Appeals that should mean the court summons is canceled, I hope. I bought lamb chops and Cava at the mini Tescos, and going to bed soon for what promises to be a well contented and long kip

PS: I found the bank card as well.
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