Home at last

It has been a long and wearisome journey home.

Burton was unable to push his folding cycle back to Skegness Station on account of his "groyne strain". And there are some areas where even the most dedicated of fundamentalist pastors refuse to lay on hands. So at Burton's insistence I cycled back to the station which giving him what I have always thought of as a "saddler", although he refers to it as a "backie". Although it was not all joy in the morning for Burton either. In order to get us both on the cycle I had to gaffer-tape the suitcases to his jacket. However sadly for Burton I was unable to unfasten him from the case, and he had a terrible time getting through train doors on the way home. And then the taxi driver informed me there was no way he could get "that prat in the suitcases" into his vehicular conveyance, and I had to cycle Burton and myself home. Surely the way is scary that leads from Ridgmont Station to Husborne Crawley - and fast are the cars that belt along it.

But surely I am home and delighted to see a wife who meets all the specifications in Proverbs 31.  Who demanded to know what I had been doing out with my "ungodly friends" and set me to work re-plastering the spare bedroom. It is a joy to be home!