So that's it. We're back from the holiday and as we left the hotel it was the most perfect of autumnal days, sunshine, not a breath of wind, warm and a heavy dew sparkling on the world. But now we're home. Gingernut wasn't in but emerged about an hour later and sat on the table with his back to us in a huff. Holidays are strange when they come to an end. How soon everyday routine returns. Washing machine on, we had to cook our own tea and now I'm relaxing watching a B/W film from 1946, Pink String And Ceiling Wax on Talking Pictures TV.
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