A routine Thursday.

Despite the late night we are up at seven, and eat the last of the smoked salmon with cream cheese and rye toast for breakfast. Before setting off for Cherry, I hang out the shirts I washed the other day in the garden. The cold, dry, east wind should dry them by lunch time. Norman and I collect the terriers from Cherry Burton, where the daffodils are blooming gaily in the west facing front garden. On the common however, spring remains in suspended animation, waiting patiently for a change in the direction of the wind, which the forecasters say should occur early next week. I have found a tennis ball, which I throw for Teddy to retrieve, as we make our way towards Black Mill, after ten minutes or so he becomes bored with the game and I stow the ball in my pocket for future use. I have my half yearly dental check up at 12:30, so after dropping Teddy and Dolly back at Two Riggs, Norman and I drive home, where I give him some fresh water and biscuits and then drive first to the doctors, to drop off a prescription for anti inflammatories as the arthritis in my hip is playing up with the cold weather, and then to the dentists, parking at Tesco's, which is just a stone's throw away. The receptionist gives me a form to fill in and to then hand to the dentist, which requires me to notify them of any material change to my health, so I declare my prostate cancer relapse. It is unlikely that this will affect my mouth, but as my father contracted oral cancer, it is prudent to be on the look out. I am early, about fifteen minutes before my appointment, but have brought my Philip Roth book with me and read for half an hour before Mark, my dentist for the last twenty odd years, calls me in. He asks about the cancer and I explain briefly, before climbing into the chair for my inspection, my teeth are fine but I am told I need to pay more attention to my lower gums, as there is some plaque build up and a little inflamation as a result. While Mark scales and polishes my teeth, I think back to the last time I changed my electric toothbrush head, and can't remember, so it must have been a while. Mark wishes me good luck with the relapse and then I pay my bill in reception and book ahead for six months. My next appointment is on my birthday, October 7th, I could change it, but don't. These check ups only take half an hour and I can change it nearer the time if I have any other plans over lunchtime. I walk into town and buy some new toothbrush heads from Superdrug and then cross the road to Windmill Walk, to Tim's, the barber, for my monthly trim. The place is packed, so I leave and walk through town in the bright sunshine, which has brought people out over lunchtime, despite the cold wind and buy a baguette, some Camembert and a bottle of Chianti, to accompany the vegetarian Bolognese simmering in the slow cooker in my kitchen. When I look back in to Tim's, it is even busier than before, so I leave my haircut for another day and drive home. Norman is waiting for me, wagging his tail, and suddenly, In the warm house, I feel hungry and very tired. Sarah phones from Scotland, where she is on holiday, confirming that I will still be able to look after Louis tomorrow, and asking me to be at her house for seven in the morning. I confirm this and then can't be bothered to make pasta, so just eat bread and cheese with a glass of wine for lunch and then lie down and sleep soundly for four hours. I awake feeling refreshed, give Normy his tin for dinner and then make tea, toast and apricot jam and read my book until ten thirty. Before going to bed, I set my alarm for five o'clock, so I can have a shower and breakfast before driving to Sarah's house. I hate to be rushed.