Although, the weather had other thoughts, and for most of Saturday the rain fell from the sky. In the morning we did chores, or Jools did, she tidied the garden until the rain began to fall really hard.
The afternoon, for me, was given over to watching Liverpool struggle once again to play something approaching football, drawing poorly against the might of Stoke, conceding another last minute goal, and Rafa Benitez rather than admitting his team were in fact, crap, decided to blame the referee once again.
And then from three, have the radio on for the three o'clock kick-offs and to follow Norwich's match at Colchester. Colchester were the team that beat City 7-1 on the opening day of the season. Much talk all week had been of revenge, and scores to be settled. On a quagmire of a pitch, Norwich scored five goals from their six chances to romp to a comfortable win, and leave Colchester mumbling about stolen managers and how life is so unfair and go to their collective bedrooms for a good sulk.
Jools went out for the evening, to the box factory's Chistmas function. Being as I was not permanent staff, and now having left, I was not invited, not that I would have wanted to go. Well, I would have, but saying that was trying to show I didn't care. On TV, there was the opening episodes to a history of Christianity and a history of the Royal Navy. Both wonderful, and well worth the licence fee for the BBC.
Jools came back just after nine with a KFC zinger burger for both of us. I had had a toasted cheese sandwich or two during the TV shows, but when asked if I fancied something from KFC, I thought, why not?
And then to settle down to watch the New Orleans Saints thrash the Cardinals. Sadly, the late game as just that: late. A half one kick off meant that I would be sitting up until gone four, and no matter how much I enjoy football, that is too much.
The weather forecast for Sunday for days had been for wall to wall sunshine; it was hard to believe that would happen after the rain of Saturday. But sure enough the sky was deep blue and the sun rose into an azure sky.
Sadly our friends had bailed out of the Flickrmeet; Matt and Dadi were going to Wales to visit and Bob had caught what sounded like flu. And so Jools and I headed towards the north Kent coast and the town of Whitstable.
Whitstable is a wonderful town, busy-ish fishing port, full of nice houses and pubs, and today, for a change for a Flickrmeet, the weather was wonderful.
After moving to Kent, a place where I knew few people, Flickr has helped me meet new friends and people, and the frequency of these meets is gathering pace. Apart from meeting contacts, what is great how each of us approaches the shoot, and captures something different in the same scene.
So, we meet outside a picturesque pub, and at 11 walk off down the beach, soon we are all stretched over a wide area. And as no rendezvous had been arranged, most were not to be seen again.
We ended up at the harbour, which was stunning in the bright sunshine, the fish market busy, which is the way it should be. I snapped away, Jools had taken her camera as well and so she snapped too.
We met up with a friend of mine, Gary, and we retire to a pub for refreshment and something to eat. The Duke of Cumberland is quite empty, but is homely with a real fire roaring away. I have a pint of Shepherd Neame and then Jools and I share a huge plate of nachos.
The light begins to fade, and so we bid Gary farewell and head off home, passing through Canterbury, and as the sun dips behind the horizon, arrive home. I put the coffee on and we settle down to a quiet evening, and me to watch more NFL with Bret Favre playing like a man 15 years his junior, a delight to watch.
We have steak and ale pie, roast potatoes and lots of veg for dinner, and then have the rest of an apple crumble I had made for Friday for supper.
Not bad.
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