Saturday 9th January 2021

It am the weekend.

And thanks to the late night on Friday and a surfeit of sloe gin, I was a little woolly headed.

Jools had been shopping, so no Tesco for us, so we have coffee and croissants. Outside the mist had retrned, and the sea fog joined it, and the rest of the world was lost to sight.

We have the radio on, the heating turned way up, and outside the sun rose, hidden from view.

It was a morning when I was still hungry, when the only fix would be fried food. So, I crack open the pack of sausages Jools had got for bangers and mash, and I fried four of them to make sausage sarnies. Because bacon make butties, but sausages makes sarnies. I don't make the rules.

The house fill with black smoke as the sausages are finished, cut in half and put into buttered bread, and served.

Yummy.

We go out for a walk at eleven, mainly for me to get some shots for the blog and the project. We have decided for the meantime not to travel other than for shopping or work, no walking beside the sea at Deal or Dover for us.

Along the road, we meet a dogwalker frined of Jools', who she used to meet on her morning walks last year before it came too dark to walk to Windy Ridge in the mornings. I say hello to Harry, and he likes me, propbably becasue I smell of sausages.

From there we walk along the first part of the track, then cut up to Collingwood so we could check the first road to Windy Ridge, but like all low-laying areas, it was a mud bath.

We decide to walk just to Fleet House, check on the copse, no pigs, then back across the fields to home.

We meet a few others, mostly dogwalkers, but a couple ask about the camera and what I was snapping, so I tell them.

As we walked back over the fields, the mist lifts, and we could just see the villlage.

We get home just before midday, cold and damp, but me in time to follow Norwich's game on Twitter. It kicked off at 12. I sit down, turn on the laptop, and we score.

1-0.

I make a brew, and we score a second.

2-0.

And that was that. We huffed and puffed, came close a couple of times, but are through to the next round.

I listen to football all afternoon, then sit down to watch two games on the computer.

We dine on nachos and beer as darkenss fell.

Outside the fog had returned. The outside word was lost from view, and quite frankly, that's a good thing.