Floored

It's lucky I looked at my ticket for tonight before going to dress. The clothes I was going to put on are not at all suitable for sitting on a cushion in a restricted area for a couple of hours. Yup, tonight is the night I'll be a proper promenader, and so will dress accordingly. And warmly.

The weather has been awful over most of the weekend, cold and becoming increasingly windy, with sharp downpours of rain. The forecast had said showery, which was an understatement. It had suggested that most of the rainfall would be close to the East coast; Yorkshire, Lincolnshire and Norfolk and we speculated whether Ro's tent in Leicester would be washed or blown away. In fact, the weatherman was right and he wondered why I sounded solicitous, when I went to Norwich to pick him up from the station.

I babysat last night, and put Squiffany to bed, which I haven't done since she moved into a bed from her cot. It was, actually, a great deal better than the previous occasion, as in the cot she used to cry when left, though usually only for a few minutes. But she was very tired, went willingly to bed, wanted three books (Fox in Socks, nursery rhymes and the Very Hungry Caterpillar) and then I set off her musical apple, kissed her and left. And, a few minutes later, when I looked again, silence and sleep. Half an hour later I found her quiet but awake and fumbling for a book, and she went to sleep cuddling it, and that was that. I ate a sandwich and some cheese, drank half a bottle of wine and read the papers until her parents came home.