Sunday 5th April 2015

Saturday

Another grey and dull day dawned in the garden of England. It probably wouldn't get much better. Looking in the fridge, I see we are low on milk. So, better go to the shop, Sainsbury's was the choice, as its not Tesco for the main reason, but then you can also find lovely expensive things in Sainsbury's.

I say I will go at seven once it had opened, it was very gloomy as I drove down Station Road, and yet there were some idiots without any lights on, despite being almost dark and foggy.

As I drove into Ringwould, and old gentleman in a disabled cart came out of the drive of the care home, at something like warp factor 5. He tried to turn onto the path, never going to happen, as I watched and my foot went automatically to the brake, he was on two wheels and then fell out of the car onto the road. I stopped. He was OK, shaken, hurt his knee, but did not want to make a scene. I recovered his walking stick, took it to him, checked if he needed anything, he said he was fine. I let him go and got back in the car. That took something like 30 seconds, and in that time a life could have ended.

In Deal, I zip round the shop, milk, butter, eggs and a cheesecake. More on that later.

Back home without incident. We have breakfast of tea and saffron buns. A veritable breakfast of champions as far as I am concerned. Outside drizzle steadily fell, so we settled down to do our respective hobbies, me on the puter and Jools beading. I also have the radio on, as it is Saturday, Fighting Talk and then football. For lunch we have stinky French cheese and crackers and a bottle of strong Dansih beer, at least I had the last of those too. Needless to say, once the football began, I lay on the sofa, fighting sleep. And only just winning.

Outside the clouds lifted but I was rooted to the sofa by the race for that all-important forth place in the Premier League, so I did not go out in the garden with Jools, no I stayed in and listened to the football. As, well I believe I have said before, the footy does not listen to itself.

At just before five we went to visit friends. It was a return visit from the one they did to us in the autumn. Now, I don't really know what went wrong, but talk turned to the election, and turns out both of our friends are going to vote for UKIP. A bit of a problem as I did called UKIP swivel eyed loons early in the evening, and despite these being rational, nice human beings, they claimed that UKIP is the only answer. My thought was in that case they must have misundertood the question. Anyway, they regaled us with tales of fighting in schools, stabbings of teachers, lazy foreigners, falling house prices, English people losing jobs. And the cherry on the top was the accusation that we were stupid middle class people living in St Maggies away from the Dover Ghetto.

Awkward.

Very awkward.

The evening continued, with a very bad atmosphere. After what seemed an appropriate period of time, we made our excuses and left. How odd, and a bit of a downer, really.