Friday, 6 June 2014


Even I was surprised at how much work I managed to get done today, In between periods of uploading massive amounts of data on a typically sluggish network- I was able to take a break and walk along the seafront on the sunshine as have a look at the progress being made rebuilding the pier. Looking good.

I also remembered to bring my dinner home from the studio fridge. The M&S vegetable 'kievs' tasted exactly the same as every other vegetarian ready meal in the world. I burnt my finger getting them out of the oven. The house is a mess, I'm having the whole of tomorrow off (it's going to rain) and Sunday can look after itself.

Hastings seemed very busy today - probably the sunshine. We have a new busker in the main part of town - strumming random notes and a strange, made-up, random vocal style that was just like speaking out of tune.

Found out that the wrecked house at the end of my road sold for £115k - that's 5 less than the asking price and about 25 more than I expected. It's almost derelict, is leaning, has a downstairs bathroom and has already been  totally gutted by the new owners - I'm delighted it went for that much, anyone who doesn't understand my morbid obsession with local property prices has obviously never been in negative equity. It sticks to you like tar.

Bought the local papers. It's better than it used to be, but frankly - almost a comic sometimes. Main story, our local fire station is being down graded - we will lose 20 jobs and an engine - very bad news, and less than 6 months after my excruciating MP insisted that she had saved it, single handed.

Additionally - there is an apology that a news story last week may have gone into 'too much detail' - can't quite get my head around that one. There are a couple of letters from old women horrified by last weekends 'naked cycle ride' - about 20 local activists with a couple of police out riders protesting about something, with no clothes on - hardly the end of the world. Both letters were written by people who live on the same road. There is an article about some people protesting a newly built house on the country park - one of the people in the photograph is a dog walker I know quite well, she believes in faeries and takes her camera out every morning to photograph them. There is a large - almost full page article (and photograph) about a mattress that was dumped in the road last week. There is a report from the Bexhill 'pooch on the prom' event - a photograph of the 'wheel of fortune tombala' stall seems to indicate the man running it has been dead for some time, weeks - I'd say.

There is an article about an 'entreprenaurial duo' who have moved down from London to open a 'classic tea room' - essentially, two middle aged gay men who are blithely spunking away the money they made on there property in a cafe that looks dreadful, and a 'splash' about a new kitchen showroom that's opened in in literally the middle of nowhere.

Tomorrow afternoon a Lancaster bomber will fly over the house - nothing to do with me personally - but I'll be out with a camera. I intend to be in bed by 9pm

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