On my own

Mrs Lear has popped down south to have a day or two with a chum, and visit her Godson, who is expecting his first child ( at least his wife is).
She has also taken the Dog, so I am truly on my own.
This means many things, all the way from the obvious ( I can leave the loo seat up) to the weird (the breakfast tray has disappeared).
I am well able to cook myself a meal ( last night was seafood with couscous, and a rather nice beetroot, apple and celery salad), although usually at odd times.
So what of the entertainment? Dancing girls? Cocaine parties? Lashings of booze?
Sadly, no. Larkrise to Candleford. Making a couple of phone calls.
And reading until 2am.
Much better for you.