We headed out, following the SatNav with a mild degree of trepidation after last week's troubles. We need not have worried. It delivered us, nearly three hours later to the doorstep, in the village of Willingham (near Cambridge). The house was rapidly filling with aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers, girlfriends and other ne'er-do-wells. The table was groaning under the weight of food that had been prepared. As always with these family parties everyone got on like a house on fire and we had a wonderful day. This was topped, for the Gorse Fox, by the fact that all of that side of the family are Arsenal supporters and insisted on watching the game - a game they lost to Chelsea. The Gorse Fox restrained himself. Not a word was said, but a warm feeling of satisfaction suffused his being.
We left late in the afternoon and started to the return journey. Again, it took about three hours, though the traffic was much heavier during the return trip.
Once home, we settled down. Urban-cub rang. She is clearly not well at present and was delivered some sound advice by the Silver Vixen. Hopefully, some medical intervention tomorrow will get her on the road to recovery.
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