Under Golden Arches
To London this morning, arrived at Mum's about 12:30. A noticeably more relaxed mood on the train on a Friday morning. When I arrived at Mum's her table spread out with lots of papers relating to the tax form. With the help of Chat GPT, I completed it after a harrowing couple of hours. Our trip to the Waggon and 'Orses was thwarted though by the intermittent fault on her seatbelt. It had locked and wouldn't extend, Ben had looked at it for her, but the problem has returned. Instead we sauntered up the sunny back streets to the McDonald's, which is a drive through as well as restaurant. Having swerved McDonald's for decades it was a bit of a novelty for me. Mum had a cheeseburger, and I ordered a McCrispy chicken burger with fries. Mum said you can order from a person, so I ignored all the screens and spoke to a young human who cheerily brought the meal to our table. It was clean, and once the foghorn voices of the women and children behind Mum had left, almost...