Amy

This post is coming from the OSH, where Mum and I are enjoying some tennis from Queen's Club, whilst I catch up on a little bit of blogging.

I had the second half of the week off from work, turning up to KIMS on Thursday morning for my cardioversion. All went well - just one go with the paddles (125J?) and I was back to a rock steady beat. Apparently I was snoring rather loudly when I was returned to the ward, and then in no particular hurry to wake up. I proceeded to be fairly lazy for the rest of the day, but was awake to hear Jake's news when he got back from his first 'on road' driving lesson. He gave a pretty enthusiastic report of driving almost to Bluewater and back, including overtaking lorries on the A2.

Friday was a trip to the seaside at Herne Bay, where we did all of the necessary things - the penny arcades, a walk on the pier, sausage and chips, and a Mr Whippy ice cream. We also found this statue of Amy Johnson.


A little bit of research reveals that the statue has been there since last September, and that sadly, 75 years earlier in 1941 somewhere off the coast in the Thames Estuary, Amy's plane went down, and her body was never recovered. After all of the amazing feats of aviation that she'd achieved and all of the records she'd set, Amy had been doing her bit for the war effort, but had simply gone off course during a routine flight.