Meet my mate ...

... Al Packer.

Went for a walk around the ancient parish of Pirbright. Henry Moreton Stanley is buried there, with an eight foot high piece of rock bought over from Africa for a headstone. Impressive, the freight costs must have been quite something too. As majestic as it is out of place, but then it is a quirky little graveyard. The weather vain is a golden dragon, what's that all about? The only time we had dragons in Surrey was when The Hobbit was playing at the Guildford Odeon. As for the rest of the walk, as well as this guy we saw some lovely horses and a deer ran across the path in front of us at one point and vaulted a low stone wall; it was being chased by a couple of off the leash red afghans who were barking mad but probably harmless.

Home made fish pie and apple crumble for supper. Feeling a bit low now - TSM thinks I OD'd on nostalgia yesterday and have too many ghosts in my head for a Sunday evening. Work tomorrow will no doubt banish them ...