Shattered

I arrived back about ten o'clock last night after a gruelling journey. All had been fine until I got on to the airport shuttle bus from Glasgow, which soon got stuck on the M8. Nothing was going anywhere. After about an hour we did get there, the driver having decided to take us to Renfrew on a little detour.

The planes were all running behind schedule. EasyJet is fine for the price, and infinitely preferable to RyanAir, but the less glamorous side of budget airline operations does remind me of the bus, with added security (and a massive carbon footprint). Eventually I found my baggage and met Steve. I felt as if I'd flown in from somewhere much further afield.

We found out later that someone had "fallen" from a bridge on to the M8. Poor woman. My colleague told me that another unhappy woman had had to be talked down from the Merrywalks multi storey car park in Stroud the other day.

Back to work today, five hours in nursery, then a nannying trial closer to home. Guess whose idea that was? Being a nanny in Stroud might be rather different from nannying in London, where everything is on the doorstep. I've done the latter before. Mixed feelings.

Now I'm house sitting in Stroud. I've barely seen the cat. There is much watering of plants to be done, because no one can even remember the last time it rained. I overheard the neighbours here saying it would probably start to rain the moment the schools break up for summer. Please let it not rain on our nursery trip tomorrow!

This shot is of the sitting room in my temporary home in Stroud. I am feeling less than gruntled because I can't get the TV to work.