I went to the village to have a look at the gardens, and to look for a friend who had a photographic exhibition on. Typically for me I went to the wrong place (but at least it was the right town this time!), and consequently missed her. I went into one garden, but felt decidedly prickly from all the people milling around. From then on I contented myself with walking round the village and looking at front gardens. I didn't stay long and was soon back home.
Shortly after I got back my friend from uni contacted me to say he was in town, so we met up. I spent the night over at theirs, which really bucked me up. We watched Jaws (hilarious!) and I had a lovely dinner cooked for me. By now I ought to be used to the generally exotic sleeping arrangements that are made for me. This time I slept in a shed. Previously I've slept on a porch, in a garage, in the garden, in a cupboard, under a piano, just to to name a few of the new and hitherto unimagined places I've flopped down in. I slept well though, and had a really lovely time. Just like the olden days!
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