Hearty (at) breakfast (time)

At an hour when I might reasonably have expected to be on my second cup of tea at breakfast I found myself today on a large playing field watching a throng of small boys being put through their paces at rugby training. Such is the power of grandmotherhood, of course, that I had volunteered for this, for one of said small boys is my grandson James; he is, I think, the third figure from the right in this photo. Despite the pleasant light at this point, and the blue of the sky, it is in fact raining horizontally in a biting wind; the only thing that made it tolerable was the fact that the wind was on our backs.

The good thing about youth sport at the weekend is that these early starts give you both the moral high ground and the chance to return home in time for coffee. Not long before the end of the session, we were informed that the coffee was on and the pastries warming in the oven. I had two. Two coffees, two pastries.

Then we packed and came home. I'm missing the boys, and I'm missing Arthur and Oreo, the twin kittens who had become very friendly during our stay. I have to confess, however,  to being glad that I won't be on a playing field at the crack of whatever-you-like-to-say tomorrow ...