Recharging

Today seemed like the day to recharge, to see to things left undone, to enjoy the last of the peerless days - at least for now - and enjoy watching the hapless Boris squirm and bluster under the quietly persistent questioning of Keir Starmer. (Ok, I never actually planned that bit; it was an added bonus). Being a bit late getting out of bed was a good start, though I did manage to make bread and get one washing in and another on the line, like a dedicated Domestic Goddess. I spent quite some time on the phone and on FaceTime, much of it while sitting in the garden in the sun, only disturbed for some time by the loud music of the teenager in the next house (taking a shower with the window open) and the smelly and very noisy battle his father was having with a recalcitrant petrol mower ...

Later, we went for a very conventional walk in these troubled times, and headed along the East Bay promenade to Kirn and back. It's only the second time since lockdown that we've done this walk - the perceptive reader will have realised that we prefer less suburban surroundings (can something be "suburban" when you don't actually live in an urbs but rather in an oppidum?). Last time we were in Kirn it was grey and not a little depressing, but today it looked like a Mediterranean town with rather different architecture. My blip shows the Parish Church with its little spire, and the row of shops dominated, I'm afraid, by the undertaker ...

On our way back we met friends, with their dog, and managed a beautifully distanced conversation, moving like some formal dance to accommodate passing cyclists (on the pavement. Again.) and walkers. The tide was as low as I've seen it, and the colours of seaweed and rock and sea were gorgeous. 

Once again I'm reminded of how lucky we are to find ourselves here in a time of pestilence ...