No offence, Part II

A new day dawned, sort of.

Sunday, rainy, grey. Also Remembrance Sunday.

After I lost the traditional 'wait until the first person cracks, gets up and puts the kettle on,' standoff, and G emerged from another night on the sofa, we watched a small party of people lay a wreath in the churchyard across the road, while a lone bugler played.

Strangely moving. Also moving to think that without all the pomp and ceremony, and aside from all the TV cameras, thousands of small groups of people across the UK mark those who fell to protect them, with a simple moment of silence.

After the bugler finished, and after the kettle boiled, we returned to the fence.

"I'm not working in the rain,' said G. Can't say I blamed him. I didn't want to work in the rain either. So instead, I brainwashed him with The West Wing until he fled back to his new pad in Dorset, clutching the entire series box set (minus series 7, which I was still watching), with a promise to return in a few days.

To be continued... (again)...