Sunday 24th July 2016

How can it be that the weekend goes by so quickly? Already it seems Monday is on our shoulders, and back to work. Although this week I will have the luxury of being at home at least until Sunday afternoon at least.

But more of that another day.

Sunday morning means bacon buttes and relaxing. So, after defrosting some bread, I make the sarnies and a fresh brew whilst the cats laze around in the garden.

We should have gone and done something, but with the cloud thicker, and the wind stronger than expected, I put off going out to the gardens we had been planning, as I had eyes only for a steam train.

It has been some months, in fact before Christmas, since a steam tour had made its way through this part of Kent, but there was one, only going as far as Deal, so my choice was the usual vantage point at Minster station.

The traffic was still crazy in Dover, but we could go through Deal and onto Minster that way, so setting off an hour before her arrival left us with plenty of time. I wasn't sure how many people would be out, but as we took the last remaining parking space at the station, there were already 30 or so people waiting, and more came as her expected arrival time approached.

I was on top of the footbridge as usual, and a group of more well spoken people were laughing about some such thing, only one of the younger chaps's Dad worked for Network Rail, as sp kept us up to date with what was happening. Somewhere between London and Canterbury, the diesel locomotive on the back, caught fire, and required changing. Well, instead it joined the train behind the steam loco and another replacement was attached at the back.

This meant the train was 15 minutes, no half an hour, no 40 minutes late. And so on until we got news it would not be going to Deal but steaming through straight to Margate. As I was telling a grandfather and grandchild this, the signalman set the points for the Deal line meaning it had changed again, but also that it was finally getting near.

It came around the corner, smoking well, and eventually slowing to a walking pace as it neared the signal about half a mile short of the station. It was given the road, so a few hearty puffs and smoke bellowing out of its chimney, and it pulled away before cruising to the points that took it onto the up line before taking the sharp turn to join the Deal line.

It all happened so quick, I rattle off a load of shots, but soon it is too close for my zoom and so just walk over to the far end of the bridge to snap it as it takes the sharp turn, wheel flanges screaming against the check rail.

And that was it, we could hear the train screaming further round the curves as I walked back to the car. And once we had gone past Sandwich and were on the low part of the road, we could look over to the sea wall, and just in front of it, Lord Dowding was making up time accelerating towards Deal. I could have stopped to take shots, but I was happy with what I got. Anyway, we wanted tart.

Yes, tart. Another generous slice of Limoncello and grappa tart and a fresh cup of coffee whilst sitting on the patio was very much called for.

It is gloriously lemmony and alcoholic and just perfect with the cooked raspberries and blueberries inside.

There is time to listen to the radio before my next task; cooking Sunday dinner. A colleague of Jools was coming round with her partner, and I was to cook roast beef and all the trimmings. And it was just like me to spend the afternoon over a hot oven on a hot summer afternoon. But hey, there was sparking wine as a reward to go with dinner, so, I began.

A 3lb joint took an hour and a quarter to cook, prepare the vegetables, cook the potatoes and mix the batter for the Yorkshire pudding. It all came together at half six, with our guester having arrived and them sitting on the patio sipping summer ale.

All is done to a turn, and it is wonderful; not only to be sharing food with friends, but that it is the first roast I had cooked probably since before we went to Japan.

We talked and dusk fell, now getting dark before nine in the evening as the year begins to grow old. The air had been filled with the sound of harvesting all day, now bats wheeled about in the air above the patio. There was time to wash up, have a coffee before it was time to get ready for bed, and think about the week ahead.