Thursday 22nd August 2019

Getting near the weekend.

And those of us in Blighty, that means a three day weekend.

Which is nice.

Very nice.

And at the end of the week, I kinda switch jobs.

Which is good.

*I break off this at this point to creat a life event on FB*

And yet, there is time to do some other stuff.

I work out if Jools drops me off on the way to work, I will just have enough time to walk from the Dover Patrol, down the cliffs to Kingsdown, then over the fields to the village, calling in at the surgery for some drugs, before returning home in time to start work.

This did not take into account the time I would spend ambling.

Of course.

We woke up at half five. It is that pre-dawn calm before the sun rises and the birds wake up.

I lay in bed and listen as Scully eats a mouse, crunching through its bones.

Lovely.

I get up, feed the cats and make coffee.

Jools gets up too, has a shower and gets dressed.

OK? Let's go.

Jools takes me to the Monument, dropping me off among the caravans and mobile homes parked there.

Surrounding the monument, the first spikes of the Autumn lady's Tresses are beginning to show. None are in bloom though.

From there, I walk to the cliff edge, look down at the rocks far down below.

It's good to be alive.

It is a good mile walk down the gently sloping path towards Kngsdown.

I looked for Autumn Gentitians, but little did I know they only open in bright sunshine, and the sun had barely risen.

Over the border into Kingsdown, I see the first butterflies, the azure blue of basking male Adonis. A sight to take your breath away, there is no colour close to it in UK nature.

Further on, I look for the Long Tailed Blues, but see none. A few yards further on, I begin to see the spikes of orchids. Autumn Lady's Tresses.

There is a house on the Leas that has a sizeable proportion of the UK population. I tell people 25%, which sounds outrageous. But when you see thousands and thousands of spikes just coming into flower, you believe it.

I take shots of those that were growing freely on the public area outside the garden, though the owner does mow this too.

But hundreds of spikes just growing like weeds.

Not many in flower, but so close.

I take shots, then turn for home.

Back along the crumbing cliff path, back to St Maggies, then via the path over the fields, passing under huge slow bushes, almost ready for harvest.

I am surveying for gin making, clearly.

I call in at the surgery for some pills, then back down the Dip and up the other side, arriving home just before nine.

Just in time for a meeting.

And back into the swing of a normal working day.

Inbetween speaking, I have breakfast and make coffee.

The world is fine.

Lunch is the last bagel and cream cheese, eaten about one.

Where has the day gone?

Outside the day urns into a long and hot afternoon. I work away, but having walked nearly two hours, I feel I have done my phys for the day.

Jools is off the fasting, so I prepare dinner for us, nachos and salsa, and after finding a recipe on line, I make salsa.

One drop of chilli sauce? No, drop, drop, drop.

That has a kick.

And before Jools comes home, I put the chips in the oven, smothered in grated cheese.

Jools calls in to her sister's, Cath, to drop her birthday card off and for a chat.

Meanwhile, the house is filled with the smell of finished dinner.

I open a beer.

Jools comes home, and I divide up the cheese covered chips. The salsa is hot and spicy, which is splendid.

We eat our fill, and have enough salsa for another meal and maybe my lunch the next day?

Hmmmmmm.

The day fades into night, we have the radio on, and we get tired.

Where does all the energy go?

We go to bed to find out.....