Imagine, if you can, a pleasantly warm June day. It's 2pm and about 30 C in the shade. Now that my plastering duties are over, what else would a discerning ageing layabout do than take an afternoon nap.
I head to the 'tower', throw myself down onto its big comfortable bed, and at once find Bok, curled up, lying by my side.
Any slight breeze makes the flimsy curtain billow up, resembling a sail-boat's spinnaker. I hear buzzing of bees, and songs of birds, as both Bok and I doze off for about ten minutes.
Getting back to work again is the worst part. I always feel more sleepy after a quick nap than before. Something tells me that I should abandon my summer post-lunch siestas, but I know that when it's hot again, Bok and I will return to the 'tower', and snatch those few very pleasant minutes relaxation time. It's a hard life.
I'm off to an early morning 'Boot Sale';.... I'll let you know.