Why this is not about signwriting

I did fully intend to do a big post tonight, with lots of pictures of the signwriting and a blow-by-blow account. But know what? I'm too knackered to do justice to it.

Jim came back yesterday after a week in Ramsey, rubbing down and overseeing final painting and signwriting. I spent yesterday on a selection of trains. Well, most of it. I went to Harrogate (about 280 miles away). For the day. This came about because my former Huddersfield colleague, John, submitted a paper in our joint names to a prestigious but very expensive conference there. Not only was the conference expensive, but you have to pay for your own accomodation on top. I resented this, so resolved to pay the cheapest possible day rate (£195!) and travel up by train (£11 each way). So, six hours there, lunch, half hour paper (my bit = about ten minutes), an hour to kill, then six hours back again, arriving home at eleven. I didn't even get the tea at Betty's with which John had bribed me to attend, as he had to leave even earlier to come south for a validation in Canterbury.

And so it was that just after leaving the office today I got a text from him saying 'are you still at york, I'm on my way through London, do you want to meet up for a drink' York? I thought, that was yesterday, you fool. Then I realised that this was merely overenthusiastic predictive texting, and he meant was I still at work (though whenever I've tried to text 'Yorkshire' I get 'workshy'...). So I rang him up from the train, just about to leave Victoria (I know, just like young people, it's terrible), and he was in Westminster, so we met up for a couple of pints, and then I came home, and now I'm going to bed. Sorry.

Signwriting pictures tomorrow... oh, except perhaps not, because I'm going to a local government seminar at the LSE and there's a wine reception afterwards...