Train training.

Molly came to help Star out. Help was probably not how I would have described  it as they were full of beans on the train, but did settle, after Star slipped her harness. The eel like manouver was of Olympic standard,  as I was left sitting holding an empty harness and lead as she tried  to cross the two metre gap in double quick dash, to be with Molly, who was trying to climb up onto the seat next to Heather. 
 I, reflexes like a cat, managed to grab her collar and spent the next five minutes, holding her and trying frantically  to replace and tighten the harness  while parying the attentions of the Irish drunk seated to the rear of me. 
"Is that a blind dug?" The stories of his fall (explaining his arm in a cast) and the guy in Dublin who shot his dog, will take some forgetting. The hand thrust towards me with his ticket showing that this was his stop, was only slightly  late as the train pulled away at that moment.  Unfortunately  he got off at our stop  still chatting  loudly. To say we needed refreshments  after that was no understatement. 
A run on the beach and the dogs were happy. Luckily the train back to the car was uneventful,  thankfully. 

After I got home later than intended, I dashed to see old pal Danka and after 14 months being stuck in N.Ireland we agreed our hair was lighter and hers quite a bit longer, but not much had changed. A good catch up and much coffee was consumed.

Promptly at Five O'clock  the first of the sales designer type people arrived re possible  conservatory/ extension.  Do we move or extend?

 Have we won the lottery  and do we need to?
No and probably. 

Hey ho.

As aye 

XS