Sunday 17th July 2016

The second day of the weekend, and already it feels like time is slipping through my hands. Thoughts are turning to tomorrow's trip back to Denmark, and maybe some plans for next weekend.

Despite not feeling too hot yesterday, it was a hot and humid night, and one which required us to sleep in separate beds. It is sometimes the only way of getting enough zeds. I laid in bed, listening to the birds outside, and Mulder meowing for his breakfast; it was quarter to six. I lay there, just enjoying the feeling of laying there, but it was time to get up and do stuff.

There was still the chance of going to look for the rare butterfly, but in the end I thought better of it, and decided that once the sun broke through the clouds we should go up the cliffs to look for our local speciality, the Chalkhill Blue.

We have breakfast and coffee. And another coffee. Listen to some music, and enjoy the cool of the day before the sun would indeed break through and bring the temperature in the house back up again.

At eleven we go out, take Reach Road to get to the NT place, pay £3.50 to get in, then drive right to the top car park, near the top of the down, away from almost everyone else, where I hoped we would see the blues.

As we walked through the gate to the down, where usually one or two stays would normally be seen, there were none. And on the down where there should be a blue haze just above grass height were the butterflies cruise along, there was none. I walk back down to a secluded glade, and there were Marbled Whites, Large Whites, Small Skippers and Gatekeepers, but no Chalkhills.

We had great views down to the harbour, and inbetween the busy different layers of the car parks, but we were on our lonsomes. I take some shots, we think about having an ice cream, but we both say it would be too expensive at the NT, so decide to stop off at the village shop.

That we do, laden with Magnums we drive home and sit on the patio eating them as soon as possible before they melted.

Jools has been busy these last two weeks, tidying up Nan's estate, honouring the will, sending out cheques and letters. The last act was done yesterday, so all the paperwork was filed into boxes and stored in the attic.

We have leftover tempura chicken and Scotch eggs for dinner, which is really too much, but good with a sweet chili sauce to dip them in. And then Jools goes to visit the old folks, and I stay here to write, and try to fix my turntable. I am sure I did it right, and then after much checking, which I thought I had already done, I find that one of the bolts on the speaker cable to one speaker was loose. I tighten that up and put on Always on my Mind, and it sounds great.

As Does Tainted Lover/Where did our Love Go.

And Bedsitter.

And Say Hello, Wave Goodbye.

And Torch.

And Don't Talk to me About Love

And Borderline

And Baby It's True

And Waterfall.

A pattern was emerging. I got nothing done, and had just sat down to do some work when Jools returned home after being away two hours.

Busted.

The afternoon slips by. We have dinner accompanied by Desert Island Discs: cheese and crackers followed by strawberries and raspberries and cream. The fruit was perfect, the fruit of high summer, naturally ropened, not forced, and sweet as anything. The leftovers were put into the Rumtopf pot, topped up with more rum and stirred.

We listen to Actually in the evening, broadcasting it to the neighbourhood, and at the back of the house, the nearly full moon rose.

Another week away beckons, see you again on Friday.