Another early morning

I was determined not to be late getting up this morning.  At the hospital yesterday afternoon the Old Bat and I agreed with the doctor that she should come home today pending a case review next week, after which she will be taken back in for further treatment.  Or rather, they will decide what they need to do about what they have now learned is not a blockage in the intestine but an abnormality of the liver.  Which is what our GP diagnosed in the first place.  So, I needed to make sure I had walked the dog before any likelihood of an ambulance arriving at the top of the drive.

It was not yet eight o'clock when I was on the Roman Camp, having parked and walked across 39 Acres.  A cloudy morning, and even then not quite full daylight.  Had there been no cloud I would probably have seen the sun only just over the horizon.  As it was, there was a yellow tinge to the eastern clouds with ships on the horizon sharply delineated.  Meanwhile, all was murk and gloom to the west.

I started humming to myself (silently, I assure you) an old English folk song, Early One Morning.  I have a vague recollection that this is - or was - the slow march of the Royal Marines.




I had a somewhat eccentric music master for the first few years at senior school.  He loved to play the piano while we sang a whole range of folk songs like this one.  And somehow snatches of many of them have stuck in my memory, although thankfully most are pretty well buried!