Bye bye Bob

Today Bob flew home. Carol (or one of her many taxi driving relatives) picked him up from the Bush and dropped him at Heathrow. It’s been a lovely visit (if we ignore the weather) and we’re now looking forward to Farnborough 2018.

As I was walking Mirinda up to the station first thing I mentioned that Bob would probably be there to see her off. She wondered how he’d know when to be there. I reminded her that she’d told him last night what time train she had to catch. I figured it was a large, chocolate coated clue.

As we entered the ticket office guess who was waiting there? Yep, Bob. Mirinda asked him how he knew what time and he said she’d mentioned it twice last night. This was clearly an invitation to see her off.

After waving at the tinted windows (Bob said when I waved them off last week he thought it looked like I couldn’t see them…now he understands why) I walked back to the Bush with Bob before heading to Starbucks, then home.

I Skyped with mum for a bit then it was time for lunch then, of course, our walk. It was very hot and my gouty toe was suffering from the new shoes I’ve been wearing so we didn’t go very far and ended up sitting on a shaded bench for a bit. This way Emma can decide when she wants me to throw the ball and when she wants to rest. It also meant that I didn’t suffer.

Back at the house all three of us collapsed with the heat. It’s not because it’s overly hot – obviously it’s nothing like what we grew up with – but it’s because it’s happened suddenly. Seasons tend to slide in then slide out with the peak somewhere in the middle. This year however, winter never really left then, wallop, it’s summer. Today.

I’m not saying it’s not welcome – anything would be an improvement on the incessant rain – but it could have been a bit more gradual. If I believed in a god I’d tell him or her to bloody sort it out. Just like a frog, I’m much happier when the warmth is increased by small increments. Otherwise I just feel like jumping out of the saucepan.

Still, the good weather means the garden is looking beautiful…in it’s intentionally scrappy way and once the sun has vanished behind the house, it’s quite bearable.

Banana custard