Wednesday 19th July, am. damp

So I returned to the flat just after noon, with no intention of leaving it all day, as I tried to cope with the various distractions which came from all directions.

As the clock crept towards home-time, for those working around the centre and traveling through the various arterial roads around my flat, the kids were playing nehnah-nehnah on the landing, there was a clattering of metal objects falling on the construction site, which pervaded the rainy space between it and level eleven, towards my oversensitive hearing and the sounds of reversing continued like a monotonous and tedious lullaby drilling into my skull ...

Oh and then there was another car alarm to add to the joy, but hew it was brief ...

And then there was a siren drawing me to my doom as the JCB continued to reverse beyond 6pm.

After all that I slept undisturbed until 5. When I rolled over, in the post dream haze, until opening the curtain I was greeted by rain once more, and stripped the bed to wash the linen.

Heatwave in southern Europe and a wet July in England, but we needed the rain after June's heat?

Searching through my draw for the blue folder with my PIP tribunal information from 2017 (which I couldn't locate) I stumbled across the first PIP points score award and I was definitely far worse previously (2014) than I am currently, but I am still no different, I feel, since the tribunal in 2017 so I will call this morning to start the long ball game rolling with a reconsideration, but with only 2 points in total this time (who was the ATOS person interviewing as Glenn was blown away) it's definitely got to go to the panel.

However this morning I go to Wetherby after leaving the flat until the 28th July, at the earliest, to spend the morning and early afternoon with Lola before back on the bus to catch the A1 flyer to LBA and Beauvais for the final time, for some time I presume, to reduce the pressure with tries to boil over as I linger in this town too long. It's a form of torture I am sure.

No news from Iskara or David about Archie this summer so I can't bank on the income from that, but it's teaching me about that old saying that we shouldn't count chickens before they hatch... I always do. Perhaps I am too optimistic and get batted down by expectations which would be unnecessary if I was pessimistic with a half empty cup?

Already I am thinking differently because I know I am walking in northern France again from Thursday.

This morning I have to pick up the increased dosage venlofaxine and the ibuprofen gel for my knees; I must remember to stretch in France prior to walking - I don't think the right knee tendon will ever get better as it just feels too weak when I crouch on it.

There are two other pilgrims, at the Gîtes d'Etape in Beauvais, who are coming from Amiens. I hope we get a chance to converse. At the airport I need to catch a bus number 6 to the routiére, get cash somewhere that doesn't charge, walk up to Faubourg Saint-Jacques, pay the ferryman(hosteleria) €15, say hello to the other two pilgrims and sleep without alcohol in my bloodstream for the second night running...