Confession

It’s just like the busses – you can wait all day for one and suddenly two coincidences come along together.

Monday morning I wake up early, before six, as I have to take Loui down the road to town and the school bus.
I’m thinking about arrangements for Tuesday night and the meting at his school for the trip to London, wondering whether Minnie will be fit enough to go to school after the night before and what my afternoon’s work with six soldiers from the nearby paratrooper battalion will be like.

Suddenly the dark is ripped apart by two giant headlights that seem to be in the middle of the road.

I slow down.

Ten armoured vehicles, supply trucks and about a hundred soldiers are all milling about in the ditches and verges.

Weird coincidence, it must be national military day.

I get back, Minnie is in no form to get up so I leave her sleeping and check my emails.

I read this –

“Read a footy blog the other day - or a minute by minute account of a game ( the only way I follow football these days) and saw a question from a ' Chris in France' - not just the name and the place made me think of you but the style of question this ' Chris' asked the reporter……If it wasn't you - well it was still worth recounting if only to show you how easily you slip into my thoughts.
Cheers”

The journalist is in Britain, my friend is in Germany and the Chris is here.

Ok, it’s a little anorak for me to admit that I spend my evenings reading the Guardian’ Newspaper’s Minute-to-minute reports on obscure football matches but some of the writing is excellent and …well… I was a train spotter when I was a kid.

I collected bus tickets too.