It was our second day back in the UK after our transatlantic trip and I was due to chair a meeting in Swindon. I caught the train from London and took my seat – then, suffering from jet lag, I promptly fell asleep. I woke up again at the end of the line, several stops beyond my intended destination. The train guard advised me to disembark, cross over to the other platform, and catch the next train that was heading back towards London. I did so. However, given how late it was, I did not bother alighting at Swindon.
The next day I drove to Southampton along the motorway with my sister S and TPR. The road was especially difficult to navigate, especially at the point where you had to stop the car, get out, and open a wooden gate. Throughout the journey I felt terribly guilty that I had not given the secretary of the committee in Swindon the reason for my non-attendance the day before.
Our final destination was my mother-in-law’s house. TPR delighted her with a bunch of faded orange lilies.