First? Or last?

Sunday, I mean.  I'm never sure if the week starts or ends on a Sunday.  If we take the week as defined by all those who print pocket diaries, Sunday is the first day of the week.  On the other hand, we are told in the Bible that God made the Earth in six days and on the seventh, he rested.  And Sunday has for centuries been considered the day of rest.  Except for members of the Jewish religion.  For them, Saturday is and always has been the Sabbath.

All that is simply my usual way of meandering into what I really intended writing about, which is a comparison of the week ahead with the week just finished.  This week coming up certainly has the look of being a great deal calmer than the week just finishing.  (You might note that I have been hedging my bets over whether last week has finished already or whether next week has already started - and if you are not completely confused by now you need another drink.)  Last week (or this week, depending on your point of view) was not exactly manic but it did seem to be pretty much a constant stream of errands of one sort or another to be run.  This week (or next week), on the other hand, is looking almost like outer space in comparison.  There are, at present, just two things, apart from shopping trips on Tuesday and Friday.  On Tuesday also, I am duty driver for the blind club so will pick up the two members who live in Brighton and take them to the hog roast arranged at a pub in Ringmer.  Then I must not forget to collect my granddaughter from school on Thursday!  I hope I might find time to finish the minutes of last Monday's zone meeting and at least make a start of redrafting the constitution of Brighton Lions Housing Society where we have been in contravention of at least two rules for something like 50 years!

The Maigold rose

Last week ended on a high note with the Brighton Lions Club charter night celebrations yesterday.  I managed to win first prize in the raffle - a selection of half a dozen bottles of wine - so I was not unhappy.  Plenty of spit and polish during the day as I was driving three other attendees as well as the Old Bat so I hied me to a car wash and then finished it off by hand and vacuumed the inside.  That's not something that happens very often.

It has turned cold again, with a stiff north-easterly wind.  I even resorted to wearing a fleece to walk the dog after breakfast this morning.  But the Maigold rose which is usually in bloom for my brother's birthday finally came into bloom yesterday, exactly a month later than usual.  Now if only Skip could send some of his heat over here . . .