Ashbourne 15/8.

So do I have anything to report about today’s visit to Ashbourne?

It rained a lot, which is probably why there was no ice cream van again.

I saw the Lady B’s mother. At least, I saw a hairstyle, a smart blue suit, and a pair of lower legs which I think belonged to the Lady B’s mother. She was going into Dorothy Perkins, which I found funny for some reason, although I couldn’t possibly explain why – not even to myself.

I got irritated with a silly woman who was putting a faulty supermarket trolley back with the others, instead of removing it to an isolated place from which it would be taken to be mended.

I complained again about the horrible promotional announcements which drive me half insane. I was told that the tape even plays through the night when the shop is closed. Bet they don’t have a rodent problem. I imagine hoards of mice running from the place on their back legs with their front paws pressed firmly over their ears.

I gave the fruit shop man’s daughter my standard talk on why I consider higher education to be greatly overrated. I expect she’ll hide the next time I go in.

I decided not to buy a £1.30 tray of chips for my lunch. It was becoming a habit and struck me as an unwarranted extravagance.

I’m sure something interesting happened, but I don’t remember what it was.