Quiet – 115

It was a quiet day today. Well, it wasn’t when I tried to work on the novel next to some Spaniards whose ceaseless chatter rattled in my ears like machine gun fire, but I won’t get started on that.

I spent the day visiting my dad in hospital. This involved noisy train journeys, eating on the hoof and a very long conversation with a police officer in the next bed about storm chasing, Willy Nelson and Hitler.

No work was done, or even thought about. Cards were sold, but my husband dealt with that, the kids and the dog.

Money flowed out of our house when my daughter threw a ball at the dog and got him in the eye. I’m coming back as a vet in the next life as they clearly earn a lot! Not sure how I’d cope with the whole business of being scared of cats, but I’m sure I’d find a way.

Back to the hospital again tomorrow. I’ll be driving so it’ll be quieter. Let’s hope I avoid bank holiday traffic jams.

Personal manfesto

I am on it like a car bonnet.

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