Pick and mixer

I give thanks for making it to the station to start my journey home via various purveyors of fine food and bargain domestic appliances as required. For negotiating the various booby traps planted by rail providers en route including a ticket for a train not actually on the timetable and crossing (and recrossing ever more frantically) the stylish looking and largely information free concourse at Birmingham to arrive in a fluster in a soon to depart carriage with no reservations and a conductor with no idea where it might stop after she'd completed her section of the journey! I give thanks I know the route, and eventually got an internet signal to check the scheduled stops, as the conductor after that was either very tired, or very secretive, or less familiar with that line, and only announced where we were when we arrived at each place keeping silent on where we might go next and what time we might be getting there.

I give thanks for the golden sunlight on the turning leaves as we travelled, the strange cloud formations and pretty sunset sky reflected in puddles and streams as darkness fell. For booking a taxi up the hill when I'd worked out when I'd be at the bottom, and nothing more grim awaiting me than I expected. Most of all, of course though, I give thanks for having a very refreshing, restorative and enjoyable couple of days away from it all with Bob.