Motorway madness

Daughter J and co have gone to Spain for half term. I was going  to look after their 20 year old cat, but B.Wiggins was too boisterous and also kept eating her food and she got justifiably annoyed. So on Sunday I drove her to London to spend the week with grand daughter M who is living with fellow students in a house in Clapton.This entailed the M25 and the Blackwall Tunnel (such a frightening name) and then weaving my way through Hackney and Bow and Dalston with B Wiggins bouncing around in the front and cat Shirley emitting feeble miaows in the back. Still we made it successfully and had a lovely time with M and a walk by the river Lea. But on the way home, I managed to get on to the M25 going the wrong way and ended up paying the toll at Dartford Crossing twice within twenty minutes.   Surely there is nothing more depressing than driving for several miles the wrong way along a motorway.
I am worrying about all this obesity business in the media. I seem to be getting larger in spite of constantly going for dog walks.. I suppose it is my duty to go on a no bread-no butter- no chocolate regime again.
Also  I think I may have to go back to being a proper vegetarian instead of a half hearted one. They are not going to find bits of horse in nuts and beans.   
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me and my dog.....

I apologise for repeating the `Mud, mud, glorious mud` title in my last blog.. It is because mud is such a dominating feature of my life since the advent of B Wiggins.We both come back from every walk literally plastered with it. Fortunately B.Wiggins is small enough to be dunked in the kitchen sink.  Yesterday we went for the day to the Isle of Wight. This involved: car to station, two trains, boat, and bus,there and back, which were all new experiences for BW   Everyone I sat next to  whipped out their mobile phone and proceeded to show me numerous photos of their pets. I was longing to read the Guardian and do the crossword.
The purpose of my visit was to visit ex husband J who is very poorly and in hospital in Newport, and I met up with two sons and a grandson. I was impressed with the hospital which was cheerful and bustling and clean. No one batted an eyelid when I walked in with the dog,  they just stroked him ( and told me about their dogs)
Being an old person is a full time job. Apart from hospital visiting one`s contemporaries, I am just off to Age Concern this morning to get my hearing aids fixed, then to the library for a replacement bus pass.

Mud, mud glorious mud.....

The sun is shining this morning for the first time for weeks. I`m just back from my early walk with Wiggins, knee deep in mud. Most of the snow has gone, there is just the pathetic remains of a dirty old snowman in the middle of the village green. But three nights ago I was stranded in a blizzard for a couple of hours driving from Brighton to Ditchling. I had none of the things with me that you are supposed to have:spade, torch etc but survived with Wiggins and Radio 4 for company.
The bungalow I looked at last week is a distinct possibility, but I dread the whole process of moving. It is so hazardous. I was lucky when I sold my house in Winchester as my lovely neighbour bought it from me without any pesky agents.
I went to see the film Les Miserables. A mistake. I never like musicals and this one lasted over two and a half hours without a break. The worst thing was close- ups of singers showing their tonsils, teeth and huge pink wet tongues.   There were some incredible scenes which quite took your breath away but it went on too long and it was very sentimental. In fact I find that most things last too long but perhaps that is just a symptom of old age.
I have started re reading George Orwell, brilliant writing. There`s lots of them so it will take me some time. I am just in the middle of 
`Coming Up for Air` .