Thursday morning beautiful sunshine and I wandered down by The Embankment.
I had done my duty and had my blood tests and put in a prescription for someone else and made an appointment for someone else and was going to phone my Mum to see about someone else fixing her light bulb…so I deserved a cup of coffee.
The Pump House is a restored relic, just as it says. The smell of a full English was too much for the senses – also too much for the stomach – but it drew me in for coffee and toast.
It was quiet and peaceful. I found a corner table and was that annoying person on her phone, although I did speak quietly and there was enough ambient noise to mask our conversation.
The sun shone.
They forgot my order of toast, but that was okay, by the time the order was found Mum and I had done. I had both hands free to sort the butter and marmelade.
And another cup of coffee gratis.
And the sun was still shining.
Until half past one…and the country more or less comes to a delighted moan and groan grumbly stop…