Another early start (early for us, anyway). Cat number one (the fattest, and arguably most mental), was due her annual health-check and vaccinations. I had to take the boy with me. He was relatively well-behaved, but a bit giddy. As he furiously opened and closed the door of the cat basket and then tried to get in said carrying case, the vet responded to my request that sadly, no, he wasn't allowed to sedate small boys.
It's a bit grey here today, but as we were up and about, Dexter and I took a bus down to the seafront where we had a hearty yomp along Hove promenade. It was blissfully devoid of people, pleasingly bracing, and just the ticket for blowing away the cobwebs of a long and exhausting term.
We retreated to a glorious little tea shop in Hove which I'd read about in a magazine my mum had left for me. The boy was very civilised, sitting in a high chair, surrounded by amazing homemade cake and vintage china, whilst demolishing the bread from my sandwich and half a piece of orange blossom cake. A spontaneous visit from a friend, who joined us for a cuppa, completed a jolly start to the glory that is a week off.
We bussed it home and I put the boy straight to bed. That's where he is now. I've used the opportunity to put a load of washing on and catch up with the blog. The evening is really drawing in, but it's much easier to embrace the indoor cosiness after such a terrific blast of sea air.
We may venture down there again before the week is out...