Yesterday I ran my two miles, breakfasted on fruit and coffee, went to Morning Prayer, caught the bus to Oxford, gave a tutorial, dined in college, took the bus to Abingdon and came back home via Waitrose, constructed the printed form for today’s funeral, and worked on my homily. In the evening I planted some flowers that Margaret had ordered, and distributed wooly slug deterrent. This morning I ran, breakfasted, said Morning Prayer, and walked in to St Michael’s for today’s funeral. The service and the committal both went fine; Tonks Brothers, the funeral directors, were a (solmen) joy to work with.
But now, having slept a bit less than optimal, and had a busy and draining morning, I am close to being comatose.