Working on the caravan route and discovered I've allowed plenty of time for distance but almost none for actually being in the places we're driving to. The spreadsheet has us making admirable progress past several things the wife says she would like to see. I had included a short stop. Apparently two nights and a short stop are different categories, even when the fuel calculation is excellent. I'm rearranging the first section before showing her the rest. The point of retiring was not to create a longer commute with a kettle attached. Still keeping the fuel column, of course. Someone has to provide statistical entertainment in the evenings.

An old colleague rang about a farewell morning tea and I was pleased to be included, right up until I realised I would know hardly anyone on the current team. I started asking who was going as if I were checking the catering numbers. Really I wanted assurance that somebody would be glad to see me, which is a bit silly after thirty-eight years at the council. The wife said I can attend without being in charge of the conversation. No doubt. I'm looking forward to it, though I felt a little flat after the call. People have carried on quite successfully without needing my explanation of the hard rubbish pamphlet. Inconsiderate of them.

Had the grandies on the back lawn and spent longer throwing a soft ball than I'd intended. Nothing strenuous by their standards, but my shirt was warm across the back and I was glad of the garden chair when they moved on to another game. My left knee objected to getting down for a ball under the table, so I recruited the smallest member of the party, who fitted rather better. After they left I sat with a glass of water and my shoes off, feeling the grass cool under my feet. Pleasant afternoon. The wife says that counts as exercise even if I haven't measured it. I would call it light duties with unusually demanding supervisors.