Sunday June 15, 2008
To West Quantoxhead to pick up Graham. He wasn’t admitting to being weary, and kept on going right through dinner. Then he gave in and flopped, to sleep almost as fast as me.
I sleep just about the instant my head hits the pillow these days, and am difficult to wake. Which is good. The length of time I stay asleep varies, depending on which of leg pain or dry throat wakes me first. I can usually reckon on between four to six hours, which isn’t too bad. I’m usually awake and moving in time to catch the dawn chorus however, and that really is good.
On leaving the Sainsbury’s car park I noticed they’d been obliged to close the filling station. “No Fuel,” the notice stated, regretfully.
“It’s all this panic buying,” I said.
“You’re a fine one to talk.”
“That wasn’t panic buying. That was prudent anticipation.”
“Doesn’t that amount to the same thing?”
“Only if you panic.”