Norman and Terry hit the ground running and have barely looked up since. Dust, power sanders, and paint all being moved around in quietly purposeful, methodical ways. - Knowing them who would have expected anything else?
Leaving the two girls and I to go shopping for provisions, extra vin for the van and to do a bit of sightseeing. Hot day and by lunchtime we’d had enough driving about so retired to the shade with books and devices, tolerating the occasionally noisy, window refurbishment industry nearby.
Packing the van to head home and you’re going to think me sentimental for this: We’ve been through a lot, had our ups and downs, rained on together, sun baked together, succeeded and failed at mixes, together. He’s not happy sharing the barn with the ever increasing numbers of bloody Hirondelles in there and who can blame him. (Five youngsters, the other night, flying in circles at head height while making a racket.)
So Wilson, is coming home!!!
-And straight away moving on to a new owner.. - Norman fancied a mixer as a souvenir from his holiday so we’ve done a deal. No room for sentimentality around here.