Going Home

So all good things must come to an end, they say, (who are these 'they', and what right have they meddling in my good things?) and we drove north up the M5 back to Stratford. We had to give Dylan two cushions because he couldn't see over the steering wheel to drive; even then he complained that his legs weren't long enough to reach the pedals - youth of today, I don't know, always grumbling about something.

There was lots to do when we arrived home; unpacking, washing, watering the garden, saying hello to Tom; I made a cup of tea.

Now there's TV to catch up on, anyone would think we've been away weeks rather than a few days. I'm looking forward to our next trip already.