I am in the mornings a creature of routine and habit, so anything which interrupts the well trodden path to my first cup of coffee is bad, very bad.

I staggered down stairs, this morning at half past six.  The joys of antiquing, who ever thinks that it is in the least bit glamorous think again.  Then,  really without even opening my eyes I opened the lounge curtains as always, and this morning as I swished them aside the stop on the end came off one side and cascaded hooks and curtain over the whole room.  No time to fuss now, mental note that when we get home tonight,  at about half past six (notice the symmetry) job number one will to be, put curtain back up.

Then I made the coffee, the large pot, I felt that I needed it and as I waited for the pot to bubble I put some toast on.  Pot bubbled and I trotted off to the computer clutching the precious cup of coffee, completely forgetting the temperamental toaster (some times it sticks and has to be watched) and was only roused from Facebook by the roiling clouds of acrid smoke.

I feel (and hope) that things can only get better this morning and that a bad start hasn’t set the trend for the day.

Day two of a three-day Fair can some times be a bit doomy but the weather isn’t nearly as bad as the Weather Forecasters said it would be and like I say, “What else are you going to do on a snowy Saturday”?

Come and see us a Bingley Hall, Stafford Showground we would make you very welcome.

And if we don’t get going now, this minute you might get there before us and that wouldn’t be very professional, would it ?

I am off, leaving the house reeking of burnt toast, still the birds have benefitted!

 

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