So Saturday morning alarm call from Alfie, who is very happy to indulge in a game of “Earthquakes” while daddy is downstairs making wake up drinks. In case I need to explain the game, Alfie hold onto the bedstead and we shake it while shouting “Earthquake” and he dissolves in hysterics. It is doing nothing for the stability of our already rickety bedstead. If we are too slow in starting the shaking, Alfie does it for us, using his whole body.
It’s all a bit much for some of us, who could have used a bit more sleep
After the walk we need to run into Hitchin for Keith to run an errand and I sit with Alfie in the town square to wait for him. They have a Tenor doing a street performance, and he’s not half bad. Alfie decides to sing along which is sweet, but he doesn’t know the words or the tune of Nessun Dorma so he accidentally carries on when the song ends. Klutz.
Luckily that means we are all awake to see the Moto GP. I was going to take a photo, but my eyeballs were having trouble pointing in the same direction. It also means I have time to organise them before driving to Prescott.
How lovely is this place?