I had thought the offices would be rather genteel in Winchester, but they share a building with the Inland Revenue and the Probation Service and had the usual admonitions about assaulting staff, and the usual toughened-plastic barriers with a buzzer.
The Commissioner was a classic Representative of Authority, but friendly enough, and when I asked to affirm he slid back the Bible, retrieved the form and carefully crossed out the word "Oath": I then repeated the necessary mantra.
Less than ten minutes in all, and I should get the formal award at the end of the month.
Clare had claimed I looked "inauthentic" in my business casual attire for the Probate Court. On returning home I was soon back in those 'long shorts' which terminate just below the knee, and a red tee-shirt emblazoned with "ENGLAND": apparently this passes the authenticity test. We proceeded to the Andover Municipal Dump where we 'let go' an old bike and plenty of garden waste. I have never seen a dump busier, and blame the first good weekend of the year just past.
I've started "Cloud Atlas" which for some unaccountable reason I failed to read first time around. And for completeness, I've reached "Probability Currents" in my QM course.
