Every Day is Like Sunday

The obvious title:

And so to Sunday, and it was as wet and wild as forecasted, or nearly so. The sun did break through on occasion and the cloudy sky was interesting and ever-changing.

After breakfast, I settled down to watch Match of the Day repeat on TV and then did some stuff around the house before we hopped in the car to drive down to the beach.

Sitting beside the beach in St Margaret's Bay whilst listening to Dessert Island Disks has rapidly become something of a tradition since we moved to the countryside/village.

And this week it was something special, as a certain Manchester miserablist had agreed to take part; yes, one Stephen Patrick Morressey was going to open is life to us, the curious.



As the show went on, I got the impression of an actor playing a part; part of me hopes he is a hell-raiser, meat-eating lothario in Los Angeles, and this singer/pop star is just an act. He certainly gave serious thought to most of the questions, but did let the odd detail out. One good quote was, I am not an island, except emotionally!

His choices of songs were pretty predictable; New York Dolls, The Stooges, The Ramones, Marianne Faithful, Nico and a slightly left-field shot to finish, Mott the Hoople.His book was the works of Oscar Wilde and the luxury item was a bed.

All the time, the wind blew, the waves crashed and the rain fell. We had a cuppa from the tea stall and a slice of fruit cake as well.

We then went home and had lunch, quite what I can't remember now, and then Jools went to the shopping centre near Ramsgate whilst I stayed in and made sure the football was watched.
I did feel guilty that I spent most of the rest of the day watching various football games, but then the weather was rubbish and so there was not much else to do.

We had steak pie, roast potatoes, cauliflower and broccoli with lashings of gravy for dinner, all great stuff. All washed down by a good red for me and a rose for Jools.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2009/nov/29/morrissey-desert-island-discs