Yay!
We head off with empty bags to go for a short walk to hunt along the hedgerows for blackberries, sloes and wild apples. There are plans for jam, jelly andmaybe more sloe gin. But, that is for later in the week.
So, half past week rolls up, and it is Nan's 97th birthday, or the day after, and we take her out for lunch. We head to Wickhambreaux, which is a real place; we past the two water mills and park at the village green. Nan walks into the pub and wtake a table in the corner.
We have good food, ploughmans for Jools and I, and a fish and chops for Nan: don't give me too much. Have some chips. Have some more chips. And so on.
It's not that bad, the food is good, the ploughmans comes on a large wooden board, with fresh bread, pickle and either ham off the bone or Stilton (or ours did) and it was good. We have ice cream for dessert; rhubarb for me, pistachio for Jools and mint-choc-chip for Nan. It was great.
We head back to Dover in the late summer/early autumnal sunshine. It seems that there are several definitions as to when autumn begins; the met office say September 1st, some say the 21st and my desk diary says it was the 22nd; so take your pick.
Anyway, we drop Nan off and head home to wait for our German friends to return,as they were to catch the ferry back home on Thursday and were to stay with us that night. Anyway.
We wait. and wait. And they turn up at nearly six, we make a drink talk about the things they saw in Wales and Cornwall. And then we head back down to the Bay as Guenter and Martina were treating us to a meal at the Coastguard; and who were we to turn down such a fine offer?
So, at seven we headed down the bay, and were given the same table as the week before, and once again Guenter and I ordered fish and chips and a pint or two of fine ale, followed by their famous cheeseboard. Afterwards we went up on the cliffs to look on the lights of Bolougne and Calais, and above us the Milky Way could be seen. It was a fine end to a great evening.
On Thursday morning, our guests packed their bags, carried them to the car and were gone, off to catch the ten o'clock ferry to Dunkerque.
We end up having a quiet day, about time too one could say. I listen to the radio, edit some photographs and Jools potters around in the garden. In the evening we watch the final three episodes of Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy and at the end we found that professional nasty character actor, Ian Richardson, was the mole in the Circus; who saw that coming? *Ian waves hands in the air vigorously*
And that leaves Friday: and all there was left to do, was to make the jam, jelly, crumble and chutney with the fruit and stuff we either had gown in our gardens or collected from the hedgerows. I went out with my friend Gary to Sandwich, to the wildlife sanctuary, to snap what we could see; egrets, herons, other birds and insects.
We head to the hide on the marshes, and are treated to many egrets, a heron, crows and various ducks. Already in the hide were several twitchers, each swapping news of latest sightings and differences between stints and other similar wading birds. All above my head in truth; I was happy enough to snap away at the birdies.
Off then to the woodland, and we were treated to a fine autumnal display of butterflies; red admirals, speckled woodlands and several commas. I snap many, after changing lenses to the macro and getting some great shots.
I stand still, and as I hoped, a comma lands right in front of me in a shaft of sunshine; I snap it; great.
And that just leaves the afternoon in which to overdose on Flickr and listen to the film reviews on the radio; just like the old days.
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