Dry cleaning

A visit to Whitemoss with the replacement bonnet for the Jimny. And then, down the Drochil road to Peebles to collect the curtains from the dry cleaners. They’ve done the best they can, but it might still not be enough.

And now I can reveal the entirely predictable nature of the “bombshell” reported last Thursday: I’ve been made redundant. This afternoon I complete negotiations with my erstwhile employer and join the ranks of the unemployed - and possibly also the economically inactive.

Kerry arrives after dark, but the chicken legs in the slow cooker don’t mind at all. They’re cooked to perfection on a ginger and tomato sauce.

While we’re eating, a strange figure looks out of the darkness and taps on the French windows. It’s a delivery driver with a couple of parcels for Helen.