Sunday 26th May 2019

Sunday.

Whit Sunday.

In the height of the Orchid Season.

And yet, the weather forecast wasn't too good, so what to do?

In the end, my tousled locks meant that I plumped for a haircut, and a brief visit to Folkestone, before the main event of the afternoon: more play off football.

Not chasing orchids meant a quiet and easy morning, before climbing in the car at half nine for the short drive through Dover, up the cliffs then through Capel into Folkestone.

I usually have no trouble walking straight into a chair there, but yesterday, I had a half hour wait as the place was packed, before the shy young Armenian invited me to site down, so he could work his magic.

Half an hour later, I was half a stone lighter, and ready for another shorn month of few hairwashes.

On the way home, we drive north to the small wood with the White Helleboines and the single spike of Birds Nest Orchid. I had visited two days previously, but managed to mess up the shots. As you do.

Anyway, we parked in the village and walked to the wood, and on the far side was the single Birds Nest spike, so I snapped it from all angles, checking each shot for perfect this time.

All good.

We go home, and I cook lamb burgers with noodles, stir fry and a huge amount of fresh Kentish asparagus. And a beer.

Meaning that come three when the football began, I was struggling to stay awake. Jools had no such problem, as I heard her gentle snoring soon after she went to lie on the bed to read some more of Terry Pratchet.

Charlton edged the game, so went up with the last kick of the game, meaning our neighbour, Steve (a Sunderland fan) will be very disappointed. But it was the right result.

At six, we do to play cards, and to be honest, the first half was fun, but as Jen and John drank more and more gin, being sober whilst they giggled and smoked began to pale.

Losing heavily didn't help, of course. And laughing boy John won big. And we had to put up with his good mood when we dropped him off.