I do not need to worry.

Woking is so warm and benevolent that we are not going to be cold at all, even if it rains.
It has been like a journey into another world.
We did not get up early. In a manner of speaking we went to bed early, in that it was about half past six this morning. This is not early if you are Number One Daughter, who has usually been at the gym for some time by half past six, but it is not a moment that appears very often in my daily timetable.
At half past six this morning we were just pulling into a little layby south of Lancaster. This was much nicer than being at home because it meant that we did not have to worry about the early morning traffic, and also we were on holiday already.
Instead of being at home rushing about, I had that joyous holiday feeling that means you do not have to worry about anything at all for a whole week, or a whole four days at least. We see this a lot in Windermere. People are on holiday and are so contentedly unworried they forget that traffic is still a real thing. They are often surprised, as they amble blissfully across the road, to notice a scruffy taxi bearing down on them at high speed with the driver frantically swerving and stamping on the brakes.
I have got that feeling today. I am on holiday and so nothing matters. I can eat chocolate without worrying about getting fat, run up an overdraft without waking up in the middle of the night, and cross the road without looking.
Everything in my world is perfect.
Obviously we did not wake up until lunchtime, and even though we set off straight away, without even stopping to drink coffee, we still did not reach the Glorious South until almost evening time.
I cannot tell you how very different it is.
We turned off the story tape and just looked at things as we drove.
I think Surrey is very much wealthier than Cumbria.
It is green in an extravagant sort of way. Sun-baked brick walls in every imaginable shade of amber and terracotta drip with vines, and thatched houses almost vanish under the weight of ivy and jasmine. We drove down road after road of vast gardens behind heavy gates, of boarding schools and race courses and wealth.
The place breathes creamy butter-fat riches.
We were entranced.
Everything is beautiful. Every house seemed well-kept and repaired, every Range Rover squatting in the wide driveways polished, every garden manicured and trim. This is a place where people have money and ease.
Cumbria is beautiful and wild, but it is not like this.
Not a single family seemed to be collecting scrap iron or retired motorbikes.
It was absolutely brilliant to see Number One Daughter and family, and we could tell that the wonderful Southern wealth had rubbed off. Number One Son-In-Law was cooking, and I heard him checking with Mark whether we might like like avocado with our steamed rice and healthy fat-free turkey, and of course Mark did not know. I know that you can purchase avocado in Booths, home of ethical middle class shopping, but we never have, mostly because I would not have the first idea what to do with it.
We had avocado, and although it was pleasant I came to the private conclusion that it was not very exciting. Avocados are so expensive that I thought that they should explode into a thrilling taste sensation when you bite them, and it didn’t, really. Probably  if you are on a budget an apple is just as good, so do not feel downcast.
It was a splendid dinner, washed down with a great deal of wine. This was an added extra for our benefit, because of Number One Daughter’s commitment to healthy living and vitality. This will be good for me, I have eaten too many chocolate buttons lately, to keep me awake during late nights.
In the end they went to bed, and we wandered around the woods with the dogs and made our own way to bed. It goes dark early here.
I am feeling very contented indeed.
Have a picture of some daughters.

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