It hoofed it down from dawn to dusk, and beyond. There seemed little point to be dropped off in Folkestone for two hours so I could have a hair cut, but then have to shelter from the rain somewhere, and the pubs didn't open until midday.
So I called the trip off. Jools was to meet an old friend, Leanne, on Samphire Hoe for a walk and chat. Instead she came here for tea and a chat.
We got up late, had coffee, fed the cats, had breakfast. Had second coffee and second breakfast of bacon butties, all before Leanne came round just before eleven.
We all chatted abut life, the universe and everything, drank yet more tea, and outside the rain fell down still.
Leanne left just before the footy started, and yet I didn't watch most of the fist game. Or the second, as I watched Ireland play Scotland at Murrayfield instead. And an altogether much better game than the England on the day before.
As I was watching that, Plymouth (bottom of the Championship) beat Liverpool (top of the Premier League) 1-0.So it goes.
Then it was Villa v Spurs. Ending 2-1, but Villa should have had half a dozen.
We had cake in the afternoon, then I defrosted ragu and cooked some pasta for dinner.
A good, if quiet and dull day.
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