Looking North

It may have read 0° on the car dashboard as Sue and I set off for the beach but my bare legs told me it felt more like -4°. It seemed one of the coldest mornings so far for heading into the waves but the euphoria of vertical breaststroke for several minutes in  the cold water with the sun well risen and the sunshine bringing cheer to our surroundings, made it another special event. 

We are getting quite slick at changing out of our cozzies and into our dry robes before a hot drink back in the car and homeward bound through the back roads and rural setting of the Queen’s Park. Back in the day when sheep roamed the park and GeorgeVI was on the throne, it was known as the King’s Park. I wonder if its name will revert.

I visited the hairdresser after lunch and my only stipulation to her was,  ‘a bit off’,  but don’t make me look like Grayson Perry. The hairstyle he sports does nothing for me. 
We reached a compromise.