That Time of Year

I think its that time of year.  I am so tired as the nights are drawing in.  Of course, the driving for three hours solid today may have helped.  We were practising exiting junctions.  I am too timid.  I sit at the junction and dither about whether I've got time to make it.  By the time I've decided that I can, it's too late and I can't!  By the end of it, I was sweeping majestically around the left turn and there were no near misses, apart from a dazed pigeon. 

Bear came back from the residential trip today.  He did not like it at all.  I worry that he is too dependent on us.  Truthfully, we have always been available to him, but neither DH nor I have insisted that he spend time with us apart from at bedtime.  I don't think he entirely approved of all of the activities, had a much later bedtime than he was used to and came back with what looked like nettle rash over his shins.  He is nearly twelve, though, and I worry that I've got it wrong.  He was flat out asleep by 9pm.  This is Brimham Rocks, where bear was scrambling with the rest of the class.

Image from WikiCommons, taken by Jonathan Palombo and used under the Creative Commons Agreement

I actually went to meet him and his pal, as I thought two tired not-quite-twelve year olds with cases would probably not do well alone on the bus.  I gave them a drink and a bun and then we got a taxi back.  It wasn't as expensive as I expected, but the driver was terrifying.  He kept talking about going towards random villages, and I kept trying to get him on to the right road.  He took both hands off the steering wheel, tailgated one poor driver through some roadworks and swore at a cyclist.  I was so glad to get out of the car! 

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