It’s twenty to one in the morning and I’ve been home from work about half-an-hour. I’m seeing red…..and no, this isn’t a photoshop thing, it’s a photograph.

I was utterly devoid of inspiration after what’s always a gruelling journey made worse by a broken down train on the line in front of my train, which didn’t have enough ‘oomph’ to get up a big hill so it had to wait until another came along behind it and push it up.

Unfortunately for me, the train I was on got ‘caught in the crossfire’ and couldn’t push the Virgin train because it wasn’t the same but also couldn’t carry on down the line until the Virgin one had gone.

Not only was Virgin’s train pants, so was their phone system because I tried to let DM know by phoning his mobile several times but it wasn’t switched on….or so I thought. In fact it was switched on and in his pocket but no calls went through to him. So, not only was my evening miserable, so was his, as he sat in Plymouth Station Car Park for an hour and a half waiting for me...

So, numb after a sleepless, nightmare-filled night and a very long day, I got home with no pic and nothing in my head. Then I walked up the path to the front door and amid the honey scent of the buddleia and the hooting of owls I saw this. So, this is it.

And my only comment to Mr Branson is a big, red v-sign to both of his businesses.

Last year, my day mirrored today with a spooky vengance!