We woke up execrably early this morning so that Margaret could catch the first flight to Boston out of Heathrow. That means catching the bus out of Abingdon, changing for the Airliner coach in Oxford, and arriving in good time for the international flight; added to the joys of early-morning multimodal transport this morning was a steady rain, though it let up for a few moments as Margaret was leaving the house.
I made a prudential decision that I wouldn’t try to drag my sorry self in to Oxford in the afternoon for the New Testament seminar, loath though I be to miss it. I didn’t want to fall asleep and topple over the in-built desks, or snore, or stay barely awake and spend the whole afternoon wishing I had stayed home. This way I can catch up on some work, prepare for tomorrow’s Wedding Workshop at the parish, and perhaps snag a wee nap to make up for the early (even by my standards) wake-up time.