It's getting to me...

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No hangover and an unbroken night's sleep on the top floor: also I was marginally aware of Archie's ball licking antics... I think he was as it only once, but I was in a string of dreams which were entertaining me.

Saturday morning. Last night it went cold; bitterly. Walking the brief distance down York Road to North Street and I was freezing as the rain drops got warmer... Will any of the tomatoes develop a redness if the weather is so fluctuating... We need another month of summer and not a pseudo-autumn?

And yesterday Glenn went to LBA and, finally, I've my backpack back! He made a joke telling me it has been sent back to Beauvais and I quite believed him... Because no one in Leeds seems capable of effective logistics? The number of calls and emails I've sent to all the several companies within that circus. It's a shite airport really: not that I can categorize airports at all? But it's a third rate gateway to 'Yorkshire'?
And I don't know if Yorkshire is that great really...

***

About to go and collect Archie from mother's and spend the remainder of the day with just him: if these moody dark clouds don't leave the sky then nothing too exciting? But maybe we could get out of Wetherby? There are plenty of buses to Harrogate...

At Touchwood's I ordered some multi-purpose compost to start on trays of brassicas and other late summer/autumnal items to put were I took out all the onions up on Ainsty Crescent Allotmens. Archie had a biscuit bone. Second non-alcoholic drink in BAE and trying not to hate Wetherby with the ceaseless movement of people, dogs, mobility scooters, motorcycles, mopeds, cars and SUVs.

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