I'm at home on my own. This is good news because My Dear Wife has hied herself to the Forum (fancy name for the central library) where she is attending her Craft Group for the first time since the start of the pandemic. I know the young chap who organises it will be very pleased she is there: she is one of the founder members and he regards her as something of an éminence grise, a status with which she is mildly uncomfortable, as a lifelong shrinking violet.
We left the house at about the same time, as I went for a swim. The water was beautifully clear, although there was quite a bit of eel grass floating in it (the stuff that attracts the brent geese to the Thames estuary every autumn). I had a good natter to another swimmer, whom I hadn't met before, and some friends whom I have known for years and are even older (!) than I am. The water is getting colder, but I'm still comfortable without my wetsuit (I've put on some weight since I last wore it, so I'm on a drive again to lose that) and the weather is still warm enough for me to cycle home in a short-sleeved shirt.
Long live summer!
