Driving back from the station after dropping orf Mr Horsehound the familiar sound of Mother's wheelchair bumping in the back woke me up.
It's going to be a good day I thought as I steered Alex the Micra along almost deserted roads.


Mum and me will amble out sometime after breakfast, probably wearing sunglasses, definitely on our way to Spa Road, Hockley.
Another Monday. More politeness with strangers. More weaving around the tanned able bodied. More bric-a-brac I expect.

Late last night I rearranged the conservatory furniture, yesterday afternoon I had tea and biscuits with Hairy Suits ma and pa. And whilst being shown around their garden of delights a beautiful piece of gammon was braising in my oven.

I've missed writing poetry.


Now I must dawdle.