The little one has left, and the room once again takes on a lonely gloom. However, we had a great weekend. On Saturday the sun came out and "We followed the sun" to Port Meadows. Port Meadows is as the name states this huge meadow along the course of the Thames in Oxford. It was a nice warm day and armed with muffins, chocolate and some citrus juice we walked an hour and a half to reach the Trout Inn. This is a lovely pub on the river and is one of the major tourist attractions in oxford. We had some fantastic food, after waiting for 45 minutes because everyone in Oxford had the same idea as us.

The first time I had been the the Trout I was rather surprised to see a peacock there .. and it is still there. It seems the owners keeps them as pets.

While walking back I had a terrible experience. As readers of my blog might know, I have deep aversion to references of daily ablutions being made in my presence. I self-diagnosed myself when I acquired a partner who comes from a region of the country who feel no embarassment when talking about their bowel movements.

I am being treated by behavourial therapy in an attempt to cure myself of this affliction. This has been forced by my association with the little one over the past year and a half( Oh God! Has it really been that long! Behavioural therapy for the ignoramuses is where you are slowly exposed to the agent of fear gradually so as to unlearn previous behaviour patterns).
However, my wonderful progress was broken on Saturday by an unfortunate incident. Treatments of this kind progress slowly and the emphasis is always laid on raising the bar gradually. So, we were walking along hand in hand when we ran into a family walking ahead of us with their dog. ( Readers may also remember my continuous aversion to the canine kingdom). So, we walk slowly only for the canine to step off the path and move its bowels.

No problem, I have seen much of that in my home country and have developed a wall to such actions. But, then the lovely lady owner bends down and picks up the $%*! in a plastic bag and loudly exclaims, " Well Done!! Its so good, almost reminds me of easter chocolate eggs!".
( I am now retiring to have a drink of water before my esophagus convulses and throws up the cold piece of pizza I have eaten this afternoon)

Readers may remember that I am coming off a long chocolate lay-off and I was traumatised by people comparing what I love most to what I fear most.... I shudder still thinking off it.

Other than this, we saw the police lift a large backpack out of the water and I decided to write a mystery novel on our outing. Little one and I walk to the Trout with fellow companions and little one dies after eating food. I still need to figure out who killed her, but now that I have the basic plot things shall move smoothly hereon.

Then we got home after another couple of hours of walking and headed straight to bed- the same place that I am going now.