I was a bit scratchy today. It’s Tax Return time. Enough said huh?!

Honestly, I’m nearly 55. I should be able to do my return without a borderline panic attack. The joys of 30 years of PAYE and someone doing it for me. I think it’s the way the questions are written. I haven’t got a clue what they’re asking most of the time.

Anyway I did as much as I could (yes I phoned a friend who’s helping tomorrow) and headed to the yard for some much needed Buddy time. Bert has had to take centre stage so Buddy and the kittens have been supporting players recently. It felt good to get out on Buddy.

On my way back, I stopped at the garage to get my headlight sorted. I let them know that Bert was in the car. He had 5 people wanting to meet him and have cuddles. See, centre stage.

They all commented on how handsome he is and how calm. He wasn’t so calm this evening as he was tearing round my office and chewing my blanket. The former makes me laugh, the later made me cry.

It’s not damaged but it is the blanket I was given by my Nanna. It belonged to my Grampy. The man Bert is named after. I know it’s just a blanket, but the connection to my Mum kinda hit me. Lots of tears from me. I guess it’s going to happen. Grief is a very tricky path to navigate sometimes. But like HMRC!