Swanbister Bay

First thing, even before my coddled eggs and kippers, I watched 8 ravens play in the sky above the cliffs.  The pump wasn’t working when I was under the shower.  After toweling myself down (Scullion was on holiday) I fixed it.  Went to visit my mother.  Her opening shot was ‘Don’t forget to check that your Uncle Richard, in Hampshire, is keeping up with the £3.00 payments’.  If you read this, live in Hampshire, are called Richard, then you could well be my Uncle.  We’ve had a beautiful day.  We walked a local circuit around Swanbister, past the pier that was  the operation centre for seaplanes during war time.  The beach looks tempting.  It is, but resist, about one inch of sand and great depths of glutinous viscous mud; assumes oxter level in no time.
 
Rory Block is 75