Fudge

This morning, helped M to fit his Xmas present cartridge to his record deck, then off to Mum's to drop off Mothers' Day wishes (and a surplus TV) and to IKEA for M to buy some more supplies for the new flat. Then it was off to North London with a car full of ironing boards and flat pack coffee tables.
Parking was problematic until M sweet-talked the concierge(!!) into letting us into the secret, underground car-park. Which was full of Porsches and Beemers and a lovely old DS.
Carried everything up to the 5th floor and then drove home.
Or rather, sat in a traffic jam. I went so slowly that, twice, the Sat Nav got confused about which way I was heading and told me to turn around only to change its mind once I had moved another 20m.
Got home.
Wrote this entry.
Including that last line.
And this one.

This is Fudge, the neighbour's dog. We said hello to him at one point in the morning. He needs a haircut and looked uncannily like a Teddy Bear.