Hello, darlings, I'm home. And I've had a delightful time, thank you. It started unpromisingly, when the railway line in Essex was closed as I approached because an acetylene tank being carried on a fire service lorry which caught fire was in danger of blowing up and both the road and the nearby railway were shut down. I ended up going on a taxi ride through the delightful villages of the county with three young men and an older chap (who was the taxi driver) and I was only an hour and a half late for my connection. I caught the next train and that was the end of my possible disaster of the holiday (I may have mentioned before that things go wrong all around me but they always finish satisfactorily).
There appear to be no internet cafes in the Tourraine and so I was not able to keep in contact (unlike my sister, who was found texting away busily at regular intervals) and I have well over a thousand posts to read, according to Bloglines. This may take me some time. I have spent the afternoon catching up with emails and phone calls, and with booking a ticket for the Sage to go to London tomorrow - what? Already? At least he's not staying overnight this time. He is going to have to extract his ticket from a machine on Diss station and I've lent him my credit card for the occasion. Have I ever told you that the Sage does not have a credit card, nor even a debit card? He says that the cheque of a gentleman is enough for anyone ... though he takes the precaution of having me along on occasions when young and inexperienced staff might not appreciate the fact.
There will, indeed, be Pictures, when I get around to loading them. Not for a day or two, perhaps. Things are a little busy round here and I seem to have agreed to be nominated as vice-chairman of governors again, even though I have stoutly declared that I may step down next summer anyway. Or I may not. I don't know, genuinely.
I hope all's well with you all, and I'll visit you soon to see what I've been missing.