Blue heaven

After breakfast, to the gym for more gentle trundling. So hideously unfit and overweight at the moment. Later, pushed through a door decorated with Myleene Klass's boobies to buy some sensible black trousers in M&S, prompted by the show.

In the afternoon Lorraine and I off to a bluebell wood, having stopped en route at a garden centre where we bought a large artificial rose. Once in the wood, it was surprisingly cold, and overcast, but it was a beautiful interlude. A carpet of bluebells in swathes of misty violet blue. Lorraine pausing to hug a tree as usual. A happy hour spent wandering here. Shortly before we were leaving, treading quietly in the wood, a big buck rabbit blundered through the undergrowth about ten feet away, followed by a large red fox in hot pursuit. An amazing sight, but also a weird intrusion of a life and death struggle over the heavenly carpet.

Then Lorraine drove me home where I discovered that Chelsea were winning their must win final game by a thumping seven-nil, which later became eight-nil. Anton texting me that I owe him a curry. (A tradition that goes back to a Man U thumping of Chelsea in the 1994 FA cup final). All well in the world.

Below Chelsea win the league. Bluebells and Lorraine tree hugging as usual.











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