A late summer's day

Norman and I wake at seven to a lovely sunny morning, he goes for a toddle in the garden while I make coffee and breakfast. He soon comes running in when he hears me serving up, we are both having a full English again. As soon as I have washed up, the phone rings, it's Pip asking if I will run Andrew and his girls to Hull station at lunchtime? Of course I agree, and after showering and changing drive to Cherry to take the dogs for their walk on the Westwood. There are plenty of people on the common taking advantage of the beautiful weather and when we get to Black Mill, my old friend, Angus the highland bullock, is back enjoying the shade. We get back to Cherry for eleven and I have time to mow the lawns, before packing Andrew's luggage into the car and drive into Hull. The traffic is heavy down Beverley Road and it is a quarter to one before I drop them off at the new station, which has integrated both the bus and train stations. They are holidaying in the capital until Friday. I park up and have a look in TK Maxx to see if they have any decent knitwear or late season deals on summer shirts for my holiday. Unfortunately their stock was dull and poor, and I wander across the mall into the supermarket, where I buy some vanilla extract, losalt, diet cream soda and some new potatoes, before driving home. There is still enough smoked gammon and cream sauce to make another meal, so I cook some new potatoes, carrots and broad beans in the microwave steamer. Lunch is ready around two thirty and I eat in the garden, occasionally pestered by late season wasps, but the meat and sauce is every bit as good as yesterday. The purple candle blossoms on my Buddlea bush have attracted a host of butterflies and moths, red admirals, tortoiseshells and the odd cabbage white. After lunch I crack a puzzle or two whilst eating desert. I stewed some of my home grown rhubarb in the slow cooker and have used artificial sweetener to make it palatable and have added some vanilla to the half pot of cream left from yesterday. The result is a kind of low sugar rhubarb and custard and is very acceptable. I have saved Normy a few spuds and a bit of meat and sauce, which he really enjoys. After lunch we have a kip for an hour and then I wash up the pots from lunch, before giving Norman a tin and taking him for his evening walk down to the little wooden bridge. It is a fine evening and three or four riders pass us as they make their way back to the stables. When we get back indoors, I make a pot of tea and take some oaties into the garden room and listen to Hull v Doncaster in the league cup. The tigers are playing away and are two goals up in fifteen minutes but Donny pull one back on the half hour. After the break they score again and then the Tigers have McKenna sent off and Doncaster score the winner in the closing minutes. We haven't won there in 28 years! After the match finish my novel on Franz Mesmer and go to bed at eleven thirty.