A lot of fuss about nothing
I don’t know why those soft southerners are complaining about the fog at Heathrow - visibility there’s at least three times better than it is in Norfolk. It was a slow, slow trip down to the M25 but once I got there, the smog from the Big City was dissolving the inclement weather and I made up most of the time I’d lost. In fact, I made this trip in under 5 hours’ driving time which, considering the conditions, was rather good going in my opinion.
Earlier in the day I’d called in on Tall Andy, Kitten and young Sam where I received some shocking news.
“Sam’s going on a train with Father Christmas tomorrow,” Kitten announced.
“Ah, the Bure Valley Railway. Excellent.”
“No, no. From Dereham to, um, ….
“Wymondham.”
“Yes.”
“But … that’s the Mid Norfolk Railway. It’ll be a diesel.”
She looked at me as if I was somehow daft.
“Well, if you take Sam on a proper train next weekend they’ll be running their Mince Pie Specials, where you get a free mince pie and cup of coffee at the restaurant in Aylsham.”
“I don’t like mince pies. Or coffee.”
Women!
Sam woke as I was leaving and was lifted up to watch me leave.
“Who’s that? Who’s that?” he was asked.
“For goodness’ sake, don’t say ‘Dada’.” I implored.
Tall Andy laughed (which was a relief) but I don’t think Kitten is quite as fond of the running gag. Which is understandable.