Sunday 25th August 2019

Birthday.

Yes, it is true. I am another year older and another year potentially wiser.

My friends on FB wanted to know what things I would do all day. The truth is I do what I do most days; what I wanted.

I am lucky that I get to do what I want, pretty much when I want. So, I don't feel the need to mark the actual day with something really special. We did not eat out either, instead I said I would cook us steaks in the afternoon/evening.

I would watch somefootball, but even I drew the line that somehow England could salvage the latest test against Australia. Headingley in 1981 was a once in a lfetime event, no?

No, apparently.

After the usual early morning coffee, we took the car to the Monument, as Jools' side was better, we didn't know if she could do much walking.

We are pretty sure she has tore a muscle in her side, or cracked a rib, and overnight the extreme pain went away, but she now has to take things easy for a few weeks. So, all was smiles and jokes as we leave the car, and in the cool morning sunshine, not a breath of wind stirred the grass.

Around the monument, the ALTs had not been mowed, and were looking really good.

We walk down the gentle slope from the monument car park down to the stile that marks the boundary between St Maggies and Kingsdown. Through that and then up the gentle slope to the Leas, where as the road started on the left hand side, that's where the butterflies would be.

And right away I saw three basking male Adonis Blues, and a couple of females, all looking great in the sunshine, all recently emerged and looking so good.

I snap them.

We had came as a friend had snapped a rare plant among the ALTs on the Leas, Autumn Genitians, and I had not seen those before. Now, he said they were tiny.

They must have been, as we searched for an hour and saw not one. But did see hundreds of ALTs of course.

I go on to the point where the path overlooks the beach and on into Deal to see if I could see any sign of the Long Tailed Blue, but despite there being lots of Everlasting Pea, I saw no gliding blues. Doesn't mean they were not there, of course....

We turn for home, walking back to the stile, then up the long slope to the car park, and from there to home.

And back home I cook up a batch of sausage butties, made with the fancy bangers bought in Preston on Saturday. Smoked pork and chipotle. Yummy to the extreme.

I watch MOTD, even though Norwich lost.

By then it was a hot day, too hot to work in the garden, too hot to sit in the garden.

So I watch football, Citeh beat Bournemouth 3-1, in what was an inevetable result, even if Bournemouth put up a good fight.

I had been keeping up to date with the cricket on Twitter, and England closed in on an unlikely win as they needed 72 to win off the last wicket, and Ben Stokes battered the poor Aussie bowling all over the park, netting the winning four just monutes before the Spurs v Newcastle games was due to begin.

Thing is, the cricket win was every bit as remarkable as the Headingley win in 81 as part of Botham's Ashes, but this time, it was only on Sky, most of the country followed it on TMS of via social media. Not good for the game or sport.

Spurs were dreadful, and were 1-0 down at half time when I began to cook dinner.

I opened a bottle of the speacial Chimay Tripel I chilled for the occasion.

Steak, sauteed potatoes, fresh steamed corn and mushrooms, and a bottle of actual Champagne.

Jools toasted me, I toasted us.

We ate and drank like Kings and Queens.