A beautiful summer day, but it's back to work for the working classes. Nothing really devastating in the news other than the rehearsal for Saturday's Trooping the Colour. The Prince of Wales, in the guise of colonel of the Welsh Guards, took the salute in the place of the Queen, who never attends her own rehearsals.
Sarah is back from Spain looking quite tanned, and I can't say I'm not pleased to see her once again. Things just don't seem right without her around. Like all my relationships, the one with Sarah is platonic, only more so.
Later that night: John drags me off to the Yorkshire Rose for a quick one, then down to the Hare for another quick one, then home and sat in front of the TV before 9.30. Not bad going, eh?
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