Longer training runs for Sam across Farmer Gedge's fields then collecting Wiggly for city night out and stay in The Nelson Hotel before a jazz evening in The Norfolk Dumpling
A quieter morning after the activity of late and then out with Sam for a walk across Farmer Gedge's fields before into Horning to do some shopping.
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The dog found pheasants in the margins, but they were running and did not have sufficient cover to be held on point properly.
Back to Harnser to make some more telephone calls and then to rest and read the newspaper before making myself a lunch of soup and fruit pies with the remainder of the cream to follow.
A long rest upstairs, watching the television news and then relaxing with a new American book I had bought on training "Hunting Retrievers" which gave me some new ideas and described a creative and kind way of using the electric collar.
The washing up, some other chores and then Sam's afternoon run, the longer for the need to keep him confined early later. These last few days I had been watching Sonny Amis and his helper undertaking the initial foundation piling for James Dunham's new riverside bungalow in Ropes Hill Dyke.
I was as surprised as they were to find that the piles were having to be set up to 45ft down on most of them; a good 10ft more than was needed for Harnser and a financial shock to all concerned.
My relaxed afternoon was put out by a call from Wiggly reporting that she had got on a much earlier train than expected.
I had to pack and get ready that much earlier, prepare my things for Jim in the morning and then check myself in to The Nelson Hotel and settle Sam down in the car for the night. Changed and then over to the station on foot where Wiggly was waiting early as usual.
I helped her over to the hotel with her bags and we then had a restful time chatting and affectionately embracing whilst we decided on our plans for the next couple of days. An early meal at The Floating Restaurant and then a chance taxi to "The Norfolk Dumpling" in "Cattle Market" to see what the traditional jazz venue was like.
It was a big mistake to go but enjoyable nevertheless. Wiggly was the youngest there by ten years and I was runner-up for the next youngest as the place was full of groovy fifty and sixty-year-olds with the band as old as that as well.
We stayed for one session, had a couple of drinks, bought the crazy trombone player a beer and then caught another taxi back to the hotel and went to bed together.