Saturday, 7 June 2014

Saturday PM

Cleaning my house takes a full day. That's what Saturdays are for. I have no idea how the inside of a fridge gets so dirty, when the door is always closed. Each week there is more dog hair. As today was my only day off in ages, there was quite a lot of cleaning to do. It was supposed to rain, a lot. It didn't. Another triumph for the weird Hastings micro climate, hemmed in by the South Downs and lapped b y the sea - it's either much better, or much worse than the rest of the country. Today, it was magnificent, all day, In the late afternoon I wandered down to the seafront and fell asleep on the beach - only to be woken by a spitfire looping the loop directly above me. The Lancaster bomber failed to show - probably 'weather' somewhere else. I was once again impressed by the precision and artistry of the spitfire, a tiny little bird of a plane - 70 years old yet still peerless.

I had 'stuffed Potobello mushrooms with Wensleydale and leeks' for dinner. They were horrible.

There has been much debate locally and in the paper about the owners of a caravan part that overlooks the sea near me, building a modernist 2 story house that looks out over towards France. I walked the dogs past it today. I have to say, it's actually a very nice house. It's not the only one there, and blaming it for cliff erosion is rather facile. People are just idiots.

I have things I need to do tomorrow - but I'm also expecting a work call in the afternoon, so back to normal.

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