Sunday 14th August 2016

Sunday, and as I am away yet again this week, it was tempting to do very little.

Or even less.

As the football season had begun, the traditional way to start Sunday is on the sofa, with a huge brew watching the previous night's highlights on MOTD, and Gary was indeed in his pants. Leicester lost, but those two facts are probably not connected that much. If at all.

Sadly, Norwich are not on this year, they have been relegated to the Football League and Channel 5.

And after that I thought I would go to check on the final orchid of the season, the Autumn Lady's Tresses at the Dover Patrol. Due to a sore back, I drove, and glad I did because when I got there i found that the grass had just been mown and all spikes had been razed. Well, all bar one. So I have filled in online forms to both the county and local councils asking there not to be mowed until October.

We shall see.

I drove back angry, but its not far. And after struggling with KCC's website trying to log in the issue onto their interactive map, I had lost the will to live.

I had to have a hair cut; or rather I didn't need a haircut, but I was looking like a scarecrow crossed with a tramp, so we thought we might drive over to Folkestone so I could get one. And on the way I could check on progress on the work on the sea wall, and so update my shots on the project. OK< its not much of a hobby, but looking a them all its a good record of what has happened this year.

And the good news is not only had the footpath had been cleared of vegetation and dogs eggs, but the first rails had been laid on the new viaduct, and elsewhere hundreds of tons of ballast was being spread. TH line should reopen next month.

Into Folkestone, and we park away from the harbour and beach, where it would be crazy, instead opting for parking in the old town, just a short walk from the barbers. And what else do I find? a new record shop, and it is open.

After I have had my mane tamed, I walk back to the record shop and search through the racks, racks which were called things like grime, drone, post punk (I knew that one) industrial, electronic, avant garde and others I had no idea about. I searched for something to buy. In the second hand rack I find the entire Rip, Rig and Panic back catalogue; this was Neneh Cherry's first band, and I think I should have bought one of those, but couldn't decide which one. I see a Genesis album which I do pick out, then in the singles, a collection of 3 Flaming Lips picture discs for a fiver each. I buy all three.

I had better get out, which I do, and meet Jools at the cafe over the road, which had opened up in the shell of the old Prince Albert Hotel. We order coffee and cake, and are told that the cake is vegan and gluten free. It was chewy I can tell you. But the coffee was good, and we get back to the car with a minute of the parking ticket left.

So it was back to St Maggies via the old Folkestone Road, then up Jubilee Way home, and the dark clouds which should have covered the whole sky were not there, instead there was unbroken blue sky. After luch of pork pies, we did some gardening, then I got down to some writing, photo editing and listening to more football.

Once more the weeeknd was slipping through our fingers; we have pizza and beer for dinner, which is just fine. And then the final chores of the day, but in an unusual turn, the Olympics grabbed our attention, and we watched the track cycling the rest of the evening, and the thought that on the other side of the world, a certain New Zealander former Olympian was watching the same pictures live from Brazil made us smile.