I have not been very well for some time, so I was asleep when Corinna came in to tell me that Graham had just telephoned. He had managed to get as far as Bideford but the buses any further along the A39 had been cancelled.
Could I drive into Bideford to get him? The roads were pretty bad, but taking Oll along to ride shotgun, I managed to negotiate the road into Bideford (which admittedly was pretty well OK from Fairy Cross onwards). I dropped Oll off in Bideford, and the fact that he emailed me YNT proves that he got to his girlfriend's house OK, and Graham and I made it back. Just.
So everyone is where they should be except for Prudence who decided to reward me for my Captain Oates-like heroism by spending most of the night alternately sticking her muzzle in my ear and snoring loudly, or trying to climb upon my head.
(The picture, BTW, was from last year, because I forgot to take the camera)
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I rather envy your mobility there, Jon; today was my birthday and the fates decided to celebrate by triggering a bout of food poisoning which took hold with spectacular effect around two this morning. I have therefore spent the day figuratively chained to a lavatory, hoping for normality to reassert its self. Thankfully my immune system seems to be getting wise to the bug, whatever it was, but even so, spending ones fortieth birthday refreshed by little more than water seems unfair somehow.
I can but hope that the universe, having had a chuckle at my expense, spares me anything worse.
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