Thursday.

Been a full day. Woke rather later than we'd intended (well, 7.55a.m. to be honest), and remembered that we both had to be at the surgery around tennish. As soon as Ann had finished in the bathroom I leapt into the shower, where about two minutes later I heard the 'phone going, and about thirty seconds after that Ann came in, thrust the 'phone at me, and said "It's Terry, she's having trouble with one of the clocks". I don't know if you've ever  had to advise a lady how to deal with the strike work on a three hundred year old loop and spurs clock whilst in the shower, and not even wearing your hearing aids, but it isn't easy. It wasn't so much being in the shower - after all Terry is a retired G.P. so probably isn't too bothered by  disrobed, elderly gentlemen, so much as the fact that nothing I suggested seemed to work. "Tell you what, Terry," I said, "we've got to get into the surgery. We'll go in the car, then nip round to see you when done".  Terry lives about three/four miles out of town. We got there at about eleven o'clock (note the low cunning of this:- Eleven a.m. which is of course, to the civilised, coffee time), to be met by Terry with a huge grin "I've done it!" she said. "I poked about till the bell rang, and I've cured it."
"Is that the way you used to treat your patients?" I asked "Poke them about till they squawk, then declare them cured ?"
"More or less," says Terry "Anyway, now you're here, come in and have a coffee". Which we did, together with the added incentive of a piece of shortbread apiece. Perhaps should have said earlier that the above photo is of Terry's home, which it is always a pleasure to visit. Have to creep like this to ensure the continued supply of coffee and shortbread, especially as Terry reads this blog.

From Terry's motored on to our favourite hostelry, where we stopped for a light lunch of (I think Italian pancakes and ricotto), with salad. Followed by marmalade pudding and custard in my case and pear creme brulee in Ann's. Not that it mattered who had what for pudding, because, by mutual consent, we swapped over halfway. Then motored home because we were due to take tea at around four with an old friend and Ann wanted to change, which she did into the above outfit. Tead with Sylvia as stated, exchanged all the parish news (not all of it good, I'm afraid) then home, changed into partial scruff, and must soon get stuck into some work.
Bit early to do this, I know, but I wish you all a very good night.

P.s. Do not altogether recommend Terry's method of dealing with antique orloges. Rather, should you be so fortunate as to know, and be in yelling distance of, an honest and reliable antiquarian horologist, place matters in his hands, and wait until you are suffering a quinsey, or a dose of the megrims, THEN send for Terry, and place yourself with confidence in her hands.