Decide to head east first to pick up the M4 at Chiswick rather than go through Hounslow or chance the M25... Wrong move, police seem to be trying to get someone down off overhead gantry on opposite carriageway and all the drivers in west carriageway slow down to look.
Eventually get down to Swindon, and Mr Moore has been back from work since 9:30am (he's a postman). We have more coffee, I make big fuss of his girlfriend's cats. We head off to pub for lunch. Good pub, noticed John Otway is playing there at the end of the month, that takes me back a few years.
Eventually head back to his place for more coffee and try to stay awake. Emma arrives home and suggests food and then pub, I accept if crash space is going to be provided. It is and we head off to pub for more beer.
One of the problems with staying with Mr Moore is he collects clocks (the louder the better it seems) The dinning room clock gives the Westminster chimes every quarter of an hour! I didn't get much sleep last night. R.J. arrived home around 9:30 I guess. I mention the Westminster chimes every quarter of an hour and he informs me they can be switched off... D'oh!, had coffee and toast then headed off home.
About halfway home something hit the windscreen, loud BANG! and I duck expecting the screen to go "F***!" say I, and "not again". I've had 2 windscreens shatter on me in the past and I don't like it. Couldn't see any damage so drove home. On closer inspection I find a crater the size of an old penny (keep the pound bring back the shilling I say) on the inside of the windscreen. Oh bugger! Waiting to hear from windscreen man now. £40 excess if it has to be replaced ARSE!
Loads of chores to do now and I guess I'm only writing this rather than get on with domesticity.
When is the bloody windscreen man going to call back?