Blossoms .

London sunny and warm . More like Spain that Britain . People spilling out onto the streets, pavement cafes full , office workers in shirt sleeves. Angus stops off to look at the souvenirs for the Queens Jubilee celebrations . Many of the momentos produced for the Royal Wedding were dire . Barely marketable tat. This time round they're much better. Tasteful and fun .

Home to be greeted by a very shaggy Wilf. Arthritis rules out the wild welcome home dance but the warmth and intensity of the greeting are as strong as ever . That little stump wagging at twenty to the dozen .Soon , the family fellow settles down, head on my foot, and is fast asleep . Much happy yawning and swallowing . Old dog wisdom . "Quit being sad. Hear blessings dropping their blossoms around you ".

Old PON knowledge .

Angus heads off to London . Wilf remains behind to guard his flock . By the time the car is out of the gate he's already christened the geraniums, walked back indoors and settled in the kitchen . Pasta being rolled for lunch . A twitch of the nostril, a sigh of contentment and he's asleep . Old PON knowledge . '' Silence is the language of God, all else is poor translation '.