A rebel without a clue.

7am chimes on the lounge clock and I am sat next to lovely Ruby, again, from where she hasn't moved all night: after our adventure to Hornbeam Park Business Park and back to Wetherby Road in a loop dissected by a brief visit to The Traveller's Rest Inn and a longer stay, during a funeral wake, at Rooster's Taproom(first time visit). Both our bellies are gurgling and Ruby shifts, farts in my face and settles once more until we depart around 7:30am when those damn builders turn their radio on once more. Woke after a peaceful sleep around 5am and that was it... At 2 I sought the toilet and at 4 I told Ruby to stop scratching the seat cover when she was building a nest in her semi-consciousness. But I feel fine regardless of those breaks. I think I slept totally from 9 anyway, having managed only a couple of pages of the new novel I've begun: Aldous Huxley's Time Must Have a Stop , before I was fast asleep. For the first time since Sunday I've had a bath and put on ...

Tuesday's here. 6 days left of being with Ruby up on Chestnut Avenue. She's been up to their bed and now is by my side as I wait a little before leaving with her around 7:30am, when the builders arrive. There appears to be no hot water this morning and after locating the boiler it seems very silent as I run the tap in the garage which is nearby. Sent a message to Maureen and will wash up last night's dishes once it's sorted; or resort to boiling a large pan of cold water on the hob top... Yesterday afternoon I prevaricated a little before catching the X70, through Follifoor, to the Stray for our afternoon walk. I really wanted Lola to have a quiet one after the long one on Sunday so didn't go anywhere near to Braine Road since I returned her around nine. *** Slept well, having had a succession of interesting dreams, until I was finally awake around 5:30am and toileted before opening Ruby's crate for her wriggle cuddle prior to her heading up to snuggle between t...

Instantly those thoughts of suicide came back. The morning I set off for the X98 towards Wetherby and what appears to be the meaninglessness of everything here. I struggle to see any worth in any of the activities I perform? Doing anything at the allotment was hard going. Will try again on Monday? This must be untrue... I let Ruby out of her nighttime crate: where I left her at 8pm, and I sought sanctuary in sleep, she leap out and gave me her wriggling good morning, happy to see you, cuddly thing and then went to find the remainder of her solace up on mummy's bed. For the previous two nights I'd had Lola over too, in my bed here on Chestnut Avenue, keeping me warm and snuggling: but that was on a belly of wine. Try again this evening but on an empty stomach. Yesterday morning we were on the bus by 8am heading for the Show Ground in Harrogate for a nosy around Crimple Beck, up to Hornbeam Park and Hookstone Woods: the closest expanse of parkland this side of Harrogate and only ...

The long journey back to Leeds. I was crawling into bed at 11 o'clock. Is it worth it? The tram journey through rotten at the core Manchester to buzz about Victoria Station and pay too much for the short, overcrowded Transpennine Express... It really isn't Express? Into another city who's core is diseased beyond remedy? Leeds. But I got back in one piece. Just a couple of halves along the mile or so up to Lovell Park Hill. A wash done. No hangover. Hot water for a bath, soak, cleanse, before heading back to Boar Lane to catch the X99 to Westgate, where I will pick up some dog food and milk from Sainsbury's, and the go and connect with all things Wetherby? Was it worth it? The last 15/16 days? Of course. I didn't think of suicide at all and only briefly considered those folks around me who do me no good abs and I ruminate over. Especially Adrian, who I didn't consider once until the morning of Wednesday...

Eight in the morning on the final day of the Chemin/Holiday(hem hem)... I don't enjoy walking 30 plus kilometres a day! It's just something which like any habit I do without considering it? And it brings me momentary relief from the banality of what goes on in England? It's not a holiday! Well I suppose it's a kind of one from the point of view of another who sees any break from monotony as a holiday? But if I had the means (financial) and no responsibilities (Lola, mother and allotment) I'd go for a substantial time: perhaps the whole month it takes to do something like the Camino Frances (even with its crowds)? Truthfully I've spent a little too many weeks in France this year, and my comprehension hasn't increase and my pronunciation is still pas , there are other places I would like to go on the Camino: from where I broke off. Back to Salamanca, Figueira da Foz or Tortosa and these probably should be the future starting points on the goal which would even...

First time for everything: I caught the wrong train... On the wrong platform going north not south, so now I am in Argenton-sur-Creuse again! It could be worse it could be Leeds-upon-Aire? My flight isn't until 1720 tomorrow so I could stay here and head to Limoges tomorrow... Catching the correct train on the correct platform, nah! Hilarious, I got on the wrong train... Fantastic - I am so exhausted, from those dozen or so days, that I didn't register a green screen is arrivals and a blue screen is departures... My bad. Truly I am at the end of my endurance... Setting off from Beauvais with a hangover, leaving Paris with a hangover and walking a few hundred kilometres between Beauvais and La Souterraine and now a coffee in a corner café... What next? I am frazzled and haven't booked anything in Limoges (good job). Perhaps I head there at my leisure and try to stay with the Nuns? Time for 2 coffees and a croissant and to ponder who was is positioned directly beh...

At the end of this Way. This time. Two days and one night remaining so I want to down tools and chill before heading back to Blighty, post-funeral. Last night was a great end with me listening intently to three speaking French and I do believe it was about the price of things: inflation. A very standard conversation for those that do not move... I'll return to the UK, BBC, my mother and all that stuff on Wednesday so I wasn't really listening too intently. The meal was fine. A little bland, but they usually are on the Chemin Saint Jacques: white rice, white cauliflower, white cucumber salad and porc in a jus. But it was the right combination of foods - and it was finished off with a wonderful Compote de pomme. And I slept soundly with a lingering headache from slightly too much distance in the sunshine without a break... Meaning to have a shower I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, when I awoke with a start everyone was also in their beds, so I am not so clean this m...

Not the best night's sleep and i think I kept Keith up too with my snoring? He could hear it the previous night through the partition walls, so in the same room it must've been difficult? Packed up and made a chocolate drink from a few cubes of a good quality dark chocolate, except it had whole almonds in it so I used a spoon mainly: in the pantry there was an unopened packet French crisp bread which was an ideal sop for the chocolate drink. Now I am ready again: day twelve of walking.It's getting a little darker in the mornings: noticeably! It's all good: coffee 5 kilometres up the road and I have more chocolate, bread and a block of emmental to send me onwards and I ate a lot of pasta yesterday around 3pm, which I hope is still about? 25 kilometres today into Limousin? Last night I finished A Moveable Feast  and I left Hemingway on the coffee table for another person to read. Again, for the second times this time out, I am without reading material. But it's intere...

A beautiful morning. Chatting to two pilgrims finishing here, same as the couple from last night, who are doing it in stages. 5 days out from Bourges to Gargilesse. There is a Gare 10 kilometres away so they're off to catch the train back to home near Besançon. They're off at seven and I will be away by sunrise. A more challenging aspect to today, by the sound of it, as it's more climbing. But I've not had any climbing to do of this nature since last year in Majorca and I thoroughly enjoyed that experience, until Sòller but even that was fairly enjoyable - if the villages were out of my reach financially? Vallée de la Creuse. *** An interesting morning through the mist, by the cows in the fields: this is a different France. The wasps are spinning around me now on a filled belly. I made too much pasta with flageolet and lardons then passed out. Keith, the interesting Quebecian, said I slept like a baby. For a few days I've sought the after meal siesta but it hasn...

Argh! There is a fête in Argenton-sur-Creuse so the hotels chambre d'hotes etc are full. The suggested Hotel on the crossroads is too close to the comings and goings - so this afternoon I must walk to the Refuge municipal in Gargilesse-Dampierre: but not now. Not for a little while. I feel tarnished although I had a fit night last night. The knock on effect of two long 32 kilometres days. But at 15kms it's a pleasant afternoon stroll alongside the Creuse? But it is chilly and in L'Agora Café Bar Brasserie there is 99% shade where the sun is just beyond me to the south. A coffee. Number 3 of this day. No more. Should I eat repase... *** At first I thought it's all the same, as I followed a street out of Argenton-sur-Creuse, up passed the Gîte at Le Péchereau, which is full, and much of it was a little bland, however there was the river, once I had rejoined it. And then it hit Moulin Loup, a leat, and a streep incline by the damming barrier across the river. Now I am defi...

Today I am not walking, as such, I need a day resting my feet, body and mind. Last night was a restful sleep until a mosquito snuck in the room, but I didn't consider it much really and was awake around 7:30am. None of this 5am madness to contend with and my clothes are all washed and so too am I! A quick tour of the cathedral and gardens prior to tourists, yesterday I used the north and south portals as a shortcut. Down to the area around the Halle market for breakfast then I go somewhere else on bus, train or Blablacar... To continue towards Limoges for the flight Wednesday 1720... *** Down for a coffee outside of the marché which opens around 9. The down to the station to head somewhere else to continue walking three more days towards Santiago...  Blue skies and a colder air: autumn and winter are coming along. It's ceaseless. But it's beautiful! Last night I spent a little time drinking fine local biological wines in Vinapava where I'd heard of none of the grape var...

Just stopped for a coffee in main focal point of Brécy and there was the pelerin who woke me up at 5am... I walk fast, but he must have other means: like the devil he's beyond mere humanity, but not God because he's not infinite or eternal? First pilgrm in four days and I didn't like him... He told me a talk too fast so I stopped talking to him after that. Last night he shared none of the fayre I spread on the table. *** Bearing down on Bourges and my body is stumbling today. What I consumed yesterday was not so healthy: from too much rich, but glorious, chocolate which I wolved down coming into Baugy. Now it's finding its way out of me again! First toilet by the wayside. The large absorbent napkin that I kept from the scramble eggs in Paris on Sunday came in useful. Still got two sections of four I tore it up in to. My bowels feel less agitated. It's all part of my Camino experience the bodily functions i must perform, especially after a 75cl bottle of vino... But ...

With the one day off, Sunday - which really can't be considered off in the true sense as getting from Montmartre to Vézelay took all day - it's 8 days walking since I left Blighty and it took me until the day from Chantilly to Le Mesnil-Aubry to get into my stride. Indeed the afternoon and evening in Écouen was definitely the best, mentally and physically for the people I met and the food I ate and the drenching I took. The conversations we had that evening in Écouen, Alice, Oliver and I, revolved around art, cinema, philosophy and Jean-Luc Godard (he died on Tuesday 13th..some of his atoms had already blown off and obviously influenced my day) ... I knew nothing of him, except his name, prior to the meeting of our three souls. *** Six ceaseless hours, the last hour I was eating walnuts, young plantain and dandelion leaves and hoping it wouldn't rain heavily between little showers. Just as I was about to cry for lack of energy Mercier chocolatier factory arrives around a co...

Everything is a bit damp this morning. It definitely rained during the evening, but the bed was a little sweaty because it had a rubberised cover below the disposable sheets so my stuff is a little damp... Perhaps my sweat was enough for the stuff above me to get damp: I did wake up drenched before midnight, when I didn't know where I was in the pitch black... Not sure if I fancied a slightly stale Tradi  baguette with Boudin in it so I just fed the fish crossing the second bridge to the shining lights of the café Le Berry . Don't waste food I hear you say, but by the time the baguette has saturated and sunk into La Loire  it'll be eaten by fish, prawns etc. A bit of blood is something every fish goes for? Day 4 and Bourges is 49 kilometres away as the cars fly which is definitely 2 days on the Chemin, but one long and one shorter... Not sure about having two days to reach it? Or even one... Ha ha. Auto-stop... First things first: coffee and croissant times two... Jeudi tha...

A recollection of last night: lightning without thunder and a lot of jet plane activity around midnight... And I thought it's an invasion from space... It was distinctly indigestion! 26 kilometres and I am here. No stopping - 5 hours straight. First soul in the Gîte (€16.50) and next to the Nef and Cours de Château and next to L'Auberge de la Poule Noire. Straight in. A glass of class: Sancerre! But it was expensive and took me over budget. Could I call it a day then? *** I've a Hemingway (A Moveable Feast) and a beer, but no other pelerins in three nights. No idea what could've happened to the Dutch brothers other than they probably didn't like the idea of sharing so are in a hotel. The older brother, Bos, had walked from Le-Puy-en-Velay, but Joost never had - and he struck me as the more conventional of the two with his flowing brushed out locks of hair. But it doesn't matter. They've gifted the centre of La Charité-sur-Loire to me! Earlier I ate expensive...

Walking through endless forest in the far distance I always feel that there is an angelic figure or a knight on horseback, gleaming in polished steel, ever out of reach of my distance trapping feet? Is the legend of the White Hart at play popping out of its mythical past? As I get a little closer, on this occasion, I realise it's an Opal Corsa CDTi arrayed in virginal white...

Two nights out from Vézelay and I feel a bit remote from the Chemin Saint Jacques... The previous two nights sleeps were overly effected by uncomfortable beds: too short. Even the one last night was slightly too short. And, in my imagination, I felt a little fearful in the large but empty Gîte; some presence in my mind kept me awake until beyond 10. But I managed to go into Lalaland until 6. Perhaps eating the final few mouthfuls of the 'stew' I'd made in the afternoon rested heavily on my digestion. Like Scrooge the feelings I had were driven by the rumblings of the stomach? On the way shortly, after the usual ablutions. The items I washed the afternoon previous are slightly damp, but will dry out once I stop in Charité-sur-Loire later today? The sack has the remainder of the lardon bread, an apple (not used in the stew) and 6 boiled eggs: so no need to purchase anything here in the crossroads village, as the bells peel the time: 7am. Returned the keys, quick coffee and aw...

To make my morning smoother I've bought various comestibles for the morning. Natural yogurt. Which in a pack of 4 will be two down this evening. A half a dozen free range eggs of which some will be for breakfast and the remainder for the walk into Charité-sur-Loire, where I am sure I spotted there is another Gîtes, but not on the isle in the Loire, @ €10. None of the people I left Vézelay with yesterday morning have shown up this evening. And there is only one other Gîtes a little further along from Châteauneuf Val-de-Bargis, before it's some distance to the Loire crossing, so they might've gone there or they're still on their way to this articulated lorry crossroad awfulness. It's too busy at 17:40... No wonder there are properties for sale around €70k... Too busy: move the damn route nationale. Back to the Gîtes to finish off what I left after lunch. Now off to bed. Worn out really. Too much yesterday for a sensible person and where are the other pelerins?

What is the Telos - the end goal/the purpose towards which I put one foot in front of the other second after second, minute after minute, ad finitum? At another crossroads with 2.5 kilometres to Champlemy I can't find a goal or an end point in my thoughts. So is the Camino pointless really? On the positive side I note I never feel lonely alone. As I walked through a forest, and as the first deer ked dropped on me and I hastily wiped it off my precious body. I realised for quite a few persons a huge woodland, like the ones I often walk through in France, a scream of fear would be on their lips quite soon into the feeling of remoteness it's possible to feel? The remoteness is an illusion, because all forests in France are 'managed', but the scale of the repeatedness of the trees in all directions, except straight ahead, is potentially very threatening: what's in there lingering to pounce or drop, as the deer ked just did, to attack my precious body? *** After a brief ...

A fairly satisfying night's sleep once next door switched off the TV which went on @ 6am, but I was already awake. I think I saw the occupant on my way to bed as she took out Fifi - a yappy Yorkshire Terrier - I guess she must be very lonely trapped in that Chambre permanently?  Varzy is a mainroad passing through it town, so from around 5 I was aware of the comings and goings of articulated lorries. Last night's repase was good, including a compote de pomme which I had forgotten can be so nice, but a little more than I had budgeted for at €40 for 4 demi Weiss beer, one saucisse de Toulouse assiette, a demi pichon of vin blanc and the dessert. So frugality is the way today: must locate a Gîtes d'Etape/Accueil Pelerin and not walk 7 hours without a break. I think I made an error just following the Voie de Vézelay when some of the places to sleep are along the GR654 which meanders around it...

Beginning of day one (five) from Vézelay: seeing people is a revelation. Being in a accueil pelerin with several dormitories is unreal: very nice. 100% better for a great night's sleep and I managed to complete East of Eden  before I turned in. My backpack is lighter. Fresh clothes: the last pair of grundies before I will be required to hand wash... Briefly regarded the Miam Miam Dodo and there are two sleeping positions up ahead. Fantastic homenade confiture! Who knew you could make it with courgettes! That's a thought? All those courgettes being forgetten... Courgette, lemon, ginger, mint... Wonderful: but more like a chutney so would go wonderfully well with meats? Like a less vinegary chutney... Ready for the offski on day one of nine. Where will this path take me? Having no repase last night was a brave decision: I am not starving and mostly the habit of overconsumption before bed keeps me awake. What with a weak bladder too... *** A very tiring day. By 2pm, without a plac...

Hanging around Gare de Paris Bercy for the train to Vézelay. I will be thankful once I am leaving Paris. I've had my fill. Just now I ate scrambled egg with coffee and fresh orange to try to equalise my unfeeling this morning. Last night I returned to speak some more to the Mexican couple who live in Texas, but they had left: I should've as the deeper I got into Montmartre and it's tourist trappings the more money it appeared to bleed from me. My daily allowance from today is hovering around £50 which I couldn't do if I wasn't on a recognised Chemin Saint Jacques: voie de Vézelay is the closest to Paris - a short 2.5 hours on a regional train. People gather for the preceding train towards Lyon. People watching here. Nowt else to do really. I could use the bathroom, but I haven't any change: why they charge in French train stations is beyond me... On the train I used the toilet prior to departure and got a final 'seat' before the train departed full to th...

Coming out of the Forest between Écouen, the Château, Bois d'Écouen and Chemin d'Enghien and am back in Paris... 9 kilometres from Saint Denis? *** Only €30 to stay in Maison D'Accueil Ephrem, again, but to hang around for 5 hours in touristic hell is/was incredible... People talking hurriedly in English around a communal table, because they hoped to draw me into a portraiture: some drugged up caricature... No thank you.  *** Sunday morning and I made it through Montmartre on a Saturday afternoon/early evening waiting for the Maison to open to receive me at 8:15pm. Such a long time in the most tedious, unreal representation of Paris you could wish for. But now I don't know where to go. I don't wish to go along the same route I traced in March, and there is an option going south out of Paris via Massy towards Orleans: a possibility, but can I walk to it from here: again, followed by another 17kms to Longpont-sur-Orge... I thought of catch a train to Massy and continu...

Here I am opposite the eglise below the château and the jet planes landing and disappearing from Charles de Gaulle twenty miles away. At lunch I had a fantastic Portuguese formulae du jour then walked into a downpour along the cobbled part betwixt Le Mesnil-Aubry and Écouen. Randomly, a gentleman who speaks near perfect English, Oliver, and his wife Alice Mikal Craven(a professor at a university in Paris), took me in for the night. I briefly looked in on the Mairie, but it was so busy, then I went to the Office de Tourisme, but it was closed (when it was meant to be open), so in desperation I went for a semi secluded piss. As I turned around and was heading towards the eglise, just across the road, I hollered (or was hollered after by a gentleman?) coming towards me. I asked him where I could find the Presbytère, which he didn't know, but instantly he invited me back to his abode, after first consulting his partner. Now I am composing myself next to the Hotel de Ville with a few ch...

Starring across the road at the Gare de Chantilly-Gouvieux I am sorely tempted to get on board... But it's the big commute from this satellite of Paris. Once the fireworks ceased last night, at the conclusion of some concert further down Rue de Connétable than the priests home/office, I slept very well until 6. The café opposite the station for a petit dejeuner where I spied a bakery opposite to purchase yet another midmorning sandwich...and a train flies through the station. Why is it obligatory for a café (bar tabac) to also play god awful music videos and sell every form of gambling that can be wedged into one establishment: is it a state regulations that this trite music is sent out to poison the morning beauty? Distinctly average pain aux raisin. But it's a starter. My body must still hold the residuals of the pizza with its more cheese than tomato aspect!?! I think I am in a bad mood... Surely it will pass once I depart Chantilly for further suburbia? LOL!

While waiting for a sandwich a messenger of the Lord arrived to buy a croissant. Le Curé was behind me in his dog collar. Ready to start the day in the usual manner: with his morning bread. He invited me to the Paroisse and he took my details: he will speak to the priest in Chantilly, so I may be able to sleep there? All those coincidences! If I hadn't gone through all of my early morning routine he wouldn't have been behind me in the queue - I question the concept of Free Will often. It took me a few moments for this penny to drop and tell him I was a pelerin and I got to spend a few moments in his garden with his other messenger of the Lord: a scruffy French spaniel. *** The priest at the   Presbytère was very wary, but in 2022 I would be too. I haven't craved a bed from a Curé or Prêtre  in so long it's not true: perhaps as far back as that random Orval bar after Halle in Belgium... He eventually caved in. Now I am sat at the end of Rue de Connétable in a bar tabac ...

Just bounced out of bed around a quarter to seven. Packed up ready to get breakfast. I am to help myself as Vanessa wakes up a little later in the morning. But that's fine. During the early morning some sporty car appeared to be idling on the street outside so I got up and shut the windows: otherwise a rural French silent night: until the reversing sounds of the binmen. Much rested once I could switch off last night. A few things running through my head: Chantilly will be expensive? So my intentions may not come good. There's always the other direction, back to Compiégne where there are a couple of Acceuil pelerin. But this morning I get to Saint Leu d'Esserent... And sort out the footwear issue? Burning my mouth on 'Gold Blend' Nescafé Special Filter and a bowl of Cruesli with Greek style yogurt. It's a cloudy morning looking out onto their garden with the above ground swimming pool. Intense dreams during the evening, but they're now fading memories: it wil...

Usual routine this Wednesday morning, but on leaving the Gîtes I decided I want to walk, not catch a bus to walk tomorrow... It definitely feels right not to spend one day in Compiègne then a night, with its relentless temptations: which I fail at. Not so bad this morning. The bed was short and squeaky. Coffee, toilet and away. *** A long tiring day which could go no further 6 kilometres from Mouy, the premier etape this outing. It took a while to hitch here from Mouchy, but I managed it. At the Mairie I got a great deal of assistance to find a bed for the evening: La Source Tranquille.  The family from Berkshire who own the Gîtes allowed me to stay in their home for €50. But my feet are no good in these sandals. The hostess, Vanessa, has been very helpful, gave me a cup of tea (twice) and we chatted about my life and hers - in the morning there will be coffee, some orange juice, muesli and yogurt. My pronunciation is bad... It may one day get better, but I doubt it - my brain won'...

And I am already missing quality time with Lola. Yesterday, between gardening chores and restfulness, I cuddled, tickled and blew raspberries on her belly many many times. Once I had eaten my late lunch, after returning from the allotment, (and after I'd gone for a brief snooze) up she came nuzzling me for another walk. She's got a body language all her own. I can read when she's jealous, peeved, disgruntled etc, which I know she has been since I 'willing' dog sat for Archie for 36 days... I've been unable to give her undivided dedication, but she will always have my true loyalty. Still a little frosty around the edges this morning. I awoke on the dot of 5:30, however, but my body is still attempting to recover from the improbable Sunday with Mark. But I am one whole day away from that and, as I plan to walk out of Beauvais tomorrow, tonight will be a quiet evening at the Gîtes. Yesterday Lola was making the doggy equivalent of a purring noise when she appears t...

What I should have done and what I actually did are not the same: it's why I am constantly ill at ease. Firstly the long walk up to Waitrose via St Chad's in Headingley, which was a test to see what the shoes I've been wearing for dog sitting/walking duties since July would be like on a long walk through suburbia to the pain on my left arch area, was a good thing. Then I briefly saw Glenn who was a little shifty and wouldn't come for breakfast across at Fika, so I stupidly bought two doughy bunlike affairs at the bakery/deli just off Hollin Lane which didn't give me the kind of energy I sought. Walking into Meanwood, through the park I didn't feel right so after the purchases I made at Waitrose I wrongly had two sour half pints - one each in Terminus and Alfred - and then, because the new Meanwood Tavern doesn't open until October - where I was going to have one more half and then head back to the flat - I walked back into Leeds along Otley Road, going over ...

Left mother's at 8. Thoroughly packed and walked down into Wetherby to catch the number 7, which is the first bus into Leeds on a Sunday. It might be a longer journey, but it drops me off on Vicar Lane, it's slightly more picturesque between Wetherby and Leeds, via Boston Spa, Bramham and Thorner, I can see the new East Leeds Orbital Road as it passes on its way to the A64 and it's now only £2 per journey in West Yorkshire. Passing Bramham Park Estate and the Festival is being broken down. I've walked through this area twice. Once to Temple Newsom and once to Aberford. God knows how many years ago that was? During this time of contention millienials will give way to recessionals... Walking up to Headingley for elevensies through Hyde Park I feel as though I have just escaped a prison or endured my time to be allowed to leave through gates...

The final day of this long dog sitting summer. Ruby is asleep up at Chestnut Avenue, but with an empty stomach, as she barely touched her breakfast, after the lovely early morning walk. It was just the two of us: often she came for a cuddle and kiss along the way - such a cutie and very delicate Took Iskara and David some courgettes (mine and a couple from Ruby's 'pawrents' as I can't get to the allotment today really), touched base with Archie Bub and returned their second set of keys. They will definitely have me again, but I am not sure I could do another school holidays in Wetherby, unless the few individuals all cease to exist here? That's the wrong thing to think, but I mayest... Thou mayest. Not thou shalt. God gave us a choice to sin or not, to be good or bad, to be up or down. I chose down... *** Left Ruby around noon having walked Lola and her around 7. She was still off her food... No bother. She ate the two boiled eggs and kidney, but not the raw meat as...

Ruby is such a sweet pupster: she's forever young! There is not one aspect of her that seems 3+ years. Yesterday, once we returned from depositing Archie and Lola, she wriggled and messed about on the bed hysterically. Now she's by my side on the small sofa put aside for her in the kitchen/dining room. The previous two nights, with either Archie or Lola here, she spent the morning upstairs on mummy's bed. Yesterday afternoon we walked across The Stray together and came into Harrogate a direction parallel to the railway tracks, more towards the Odean than I expected on Homestead Road. Valuable to discover because Harrogate offers little else to me other than around 6 places to stop for a half and a doggy biscuit (although Major Tom's doesn't provide them and it's not open prior to 4pm on a Thursday). 8 beers then back in the number 7. No more Harrogate... Lola, Ruby and I are off on an adventure Saturday morning, but no further than the causeway bridge over The C...

Into the final day of Archie, who stayed with my mother last night as he upset Ruby over a tendon and this is her home. Lola stayed over with me instead. Ruby doesn't have any issues with Lola, but Lola gets a bit grumpy if I spend too long cuddling Ruby in the morning. It has been very nice to settle beside Lola in the bed and now at my side, on the sofa as the clock ticks the seconds down in the corner. 36 days in Wetherby. It's been eventful with the various moments of conflict and the long hot and dry summer? This morning I am resisting Lola's stare as I intend to go out with her and Ruby prior to our breakfasts. If you're busy Lola can wait, but if you're by her side it's intense her state! It's September, Thursday the 1st, and Archie's parents/owners will arrive in Leeds around 4pm so I guess I'll see them around five? If they get delayed I'll keep Lola again and mum can hand him over with the stuff from the allotment... I should be able to...