Friday

I love Fridays.

Walked the dogs along the highest point in Sussex at 6.30am - lovely sky with pink clouds, pockets of mist in all the little hollows on the South Downs, the windows of Eastbourne reflecting the early morning sun.

I just put some washing away - I bought a really nice Austin Reed check shirt from the Charity Shop in Bexhill this week, as I folded it - I found that it had collar stays, carefully fashioned from an Abbey National credit card - I love a bit of Austerity - I imagine some poor sod on his uppers, life fading away, making the best of his tiny pension in a studio apartment along the seafront. That will be me, one day.

They are talking about whooping cough o the radio - a young child who was treated for asthma for 5 weeks before nearly dying. Exactly the same thing happened to my sister - despite repeated visits to the doctor and numerous frightening attacks where she would turn purple with strain, we were told that it was just attention seeking and she should be ignored. Not easy, she was about 5 or 6 at the time. Of course, when she was eventually diagnosed, the doctor took credit for it - personally, I thought she was a cow.