Friday morning always take on the promise of a enjoyable weekend ahead. Banishing the pressures of work for two short days, relaxing mornings in bed and lazy afternoons with a good book or revelling in the smoky atmosphere of an evening BBQ. Reality is a strange bedfellow. Early Saturday walk for the dogs on the beach, then the morning Golf lessons and grocery shopping, mad dash to get Michael to cricket, you are torn between wanting to watch and all those household chores that you have put off all week and finally that glass of wine bringing you down from the buzz of the day. Sunday takes on its own speed, morning paper round, breakfast at Tesco and then we all start to relax, the first time over the weekend. Weekends are a day too short.
I am frustrated, bemused, having dealt with Margate Borough Council today, I find the call centers of India and Glasgow less daunting.
Samual Baxter B Jones of Dorset accompanied by Safcon, the Cookydales Labby, relish the continued out and about nature of cricket, beach and BBQ meat.