Almost August

 Friday. 6.25 a.m. A bright and sunny morning. The digital thermometer currently reads 23ºc. The window in my lounge is open and so keeping the flat cool.

Tuesday. 9.45 a.m. I haven't posted anything on here for a while, as you will have noticed if you read my posts regularly. I have been continuing with my family tree expansion on Ancestry and have made some interesting discoveries as well as completing my journey to find out whether I am descended from Dick Whittington. My late mother always went on about this, and I have at last made the connection! As Whittington and his wife had no children, the connection was actually with his wife, Alice Fitzwaryn. I worked as A.S.M. on a pantomime based on the traditional  'Dick Whittington' story in 1971 at Greenwich Theatre, and it now seems really strange to think he was in my family tree. My mother told me that there was a rumour that Whittington was in her family tree, and, obviously, in mine. I can't think how she would have known, because this was long before the internet and such sites as Ancestry. I sometimes think if something is a rumour, then there is a slight possibility that it could be true.

I took my car to Anglo Motors to have its annual MoT. It was due at 11.15, and I got there in plenty of time and found a parking space, which can be difficult as there are always many cars parked along the road outside and in the yard.

Being early, it meant the mechanics could get on with the test, which they did. I always attempt to get to an appointment well before the arranged time, whether for a doctor's appointment or for an MoT. The car passed without having to have any further work done on it, which was a relief. Well, I haven't been anywhere far in it over the last year. I paid and then found that the car was very low on diesel. The warning light came on, which means that you have around 5 miles worth of fuel in the tank, and then you come to a grinding halt, which isn't something I would want to happen. The nearest place I could think of to put diesel in the car was Asda, so I drove there. This is a self-service site, and you use your bank card by putting it in the pump, entering your P.I.N., removing your card and then filling your vehicle, which is exactly what I did. Having filled the car with diesel, I drove off and went home. 

When I got back to the flat, I was looking for my bank card, but couldn't find it. At which point I panicked, because without that card, I wouldn't be able to go shopping, buy groceries or do anything which required its use. It wasn't in my wallet, where it should have been. Then, it occurred to me that I must have left it in the fuel pump at Asda. So I drove there and absolutely no sign of it. I imagined, right or wrong, that if it had been left in the pump, someone could find it and then, horrors of horrors, start using it to pay for goodness knows what. Being a contactless card, it wouldn't be difficult to use without a P.I.N. number. I drove home and when I got in I found a number to ring my bank and got them to cancel the card and send me a new one. But, no sooner had I done that, I found the confounded card, in my trousers pocket! So all that panicking was for nothing.