Too many G and Ts

I returned from Sheffield today feeling absolutely lousy on account of the the gin and tonics I polished off the night before. To make matters worse, I hadn't slept particularly well. For some reason, despite having gone to bed at 3am, I woke up with the dawn at 4.30 and witnessed the most remarkable sunrise, which made my heart leap with such joy that sleep, until it had cleared, was not a possibility. The sun rose as a rather astonishing shade of peach, which turned the white walls of my hotel room into a light box. I lay in bed for several minutes making silhouettes of animals before drifting off to sleep again.

The train journey home was pleasant enough. Archie phoned to say that Jon Snow, in his talk to 800 festival delegates, had talked about the wedding and how proud he'd been to sing in it. Many people are still saying It's the best piece of telly they've seen this year.

London was an instant nightmare. St Pancras station was filled with braying tourists. One woman in particular was seeing how loud she could shout at the person standing right next to her. They seemed to be having a perfectly ordinary conversation, just one which was astonishingly shouty. It was like watching an RSC production!

I worry that I'm turning into one of those little old ladies who is simultaneously deaf yet says that everything (music etc) is too loud. What's that all about?

I learned on Spring Watch today that the English grass snake lays eggs whereas the adder actually gives birth. This is why adders can live much further North because they don't need to atmosphere to be so warm in order to procreate. I was surprised there could be that much variation within one species. It just goes to show that even at the age of 97, you can still learn something new every day.