This has been a pretty long day. I had to take Tom’s car over to Hailsham and then catch the train back. Somehow I thought it would be pretty simple, but two hours after I set off I still hadn’t arrived. My fault entirely – getting a bit lost, as I was worried that the little country road that Google had directed me along may have been full of potholes. So I went the long way round which was much longer than I thought, ended up miles too far up the A22 and ended up doing just what I didn’t want, by being taken along a country lane detour for five miles. When I finally arrived I realised I was only just a little way away from the main road. Added to this was my anxiety that I may run out of petrol.
The return journey by train, although long and slow, was fun as Rogie was loved everywhere. We finally caught the bus back from town – a drama in itself getting cash to pay for the ticket. There was a nurse from Pendean on the bus who I had a little chat with. That brought back many memories of those four short months that Dad spent there. Then a long walk home from St Nic’s Church with little Rog.
After a quick turn round and more form filling for the Trust Fund, I popped out for tea with Shelagh and Jan. At least the Clipper chat was over with pretty quickly and we got on to more interesting things. I do understand that people feel the need to ask how things are with Tom and that is really lovely that they care, but sometimes that’s all that is talked about.
Now I understand that Rogie wanted his dinner, but the little tinker took it into his own paws to sort out! He had managed to get his bag of dental chews off the shelf and had eaten them all – luckily only about ten I should think. Now three hours later he is still lying in bed totally bloated and can hardly stagger out.