Monday 30th August 2021

A day of chucrchcrawling.

Or a morning.

Anyway.

The church at Borden has had it's east window replaced since I was last there, so having been told it was open 10-4 every day, why not go over?

As ever, I have a list of other targets nearby, so a plan was hatched, at least in my head.

We have coffee, and have enough time for a repeat of the fry up of Friday before we leaft the house at ten past nine.

Once at the start of the M2, the sat nav took us through Faversham and along the A2 which runs the course of Watling Street, through Teynham, Ospringe and into Sittingbourne, where two of the targets were.

Which explains why we were cruising round an industrial estate and retail park, which was deserted at ten on a bank holiday morning. Other, more normal folks weould be heading to the beach or zoo, but we were looking for a church.

It seemed that I had the postcode wrong, as we pass another regional distribution centre, all grafitti and trash. But I had GSV'd it, so I knew up that street on the right was the church.

Sure enough, instead of another industrial unit there was a wall of trees, and just visible was an ancient wall.

We parked and I got out a camera, and photographed what was left from all reasonable angles, and some unreasonable ones too.

We program the sat nav and drive back through the industrial area, and into housing, through a narrow gap only six foot six wide to prevent trucks from using the housing estate beyond as a rat run. The Corsa wouldn't have been an issue, but the Audi is wider, and both tyres touched the high kebs as we inched through.

Through the ugly centre of the town, all crisscrossed by mains roads, like a mini Leeds, and as unatractive as you like, though I did see two churches I didn't know were there, so I shall return, maybe in just two weeks time.

Out through yet more houses, and the street ended in a country lane, that carried on over fields to the village a mile or so beyond.

Borden ad a different atmosphere, but plans are afoot to build 700 new homes along the lane we just ravelled, and will transform the village into another suburb of the town. This I learnt from the two wardens inside the church, who were busy redoing the floral displays.

The window was removed for protection in 1944 and taken to canterbury for safe keeping. And then forgotten about. Friendless Churches helped pay for restoration when it was rediscovered, and in January this year, at the height of lockdown.

It also gave me the chance to photograph the wall painting of St Christoper that I missed last time I was here, talking to a different warden.

In fact, it was more of a social visit, we chattled long with the two wardens before they left, and I packed up so we could walk back to the car.

We turn for home, back along the A2 out of the shit hole that is modern Sittingbourne and drive five miles to Teynham, turning off and heading out over the marshes to the church which sits surrounded by orchards.

Open for private prayer, the sign said, but the church was locked.

I tried all doors, even the ones clearly rusted up and covered in cobwebs.

I give up and walk back to the car where Jools was waiting.

We head home.

Traffic to the coast at Margate was heavy even on a damp cool day, but all was clear when we turned off towards Canterbury, where most of what was on the road turned off.

We drove home, getting back at midday.

Job done.

One church open, three locked.

Sigh.

I make a brew and we have the last of the M&S chocolate, before I make pasta sauce with the rest of the fresh tomatoes off our fines, adding defrosted wild garlic sausages into the mix.

An hour later, I boil a batch of dried pasta up, mix and serve.

Yummy.

And that was the weekend, all gone.

We play Uckers, I win. vive le change.

And there was nothing but drum and bass on 6 Music, so we listen to more Faces, then I watch Only Connect "live", before going to bed to finish the music book I have been reading.

A bunch of Hoey

Former "Labour" MP, arch Brexiteer and as someone who was born in NI, Kate Hoey, member of the House of Lords, now, admitted on Gammon News that NI was "sacrificed or we might not have got Brexit at all!.

As if this is all very nice and normal.

This is the same Kate Hoey who, in 2016 wrote in the Torygraph(!) that Brexit wouldn't hurt NI, "it would brighten it's future".

THat's the same person, five years apart, and enobled for her part in supporting Brexit and french kissing Nigel Farrage on a fishing boat on The Thames.

At some point, you would think there would be some kind of payback for these charlatans and snake oil salesmen, but they keep their snouts in the trough as the gravy train delivers another load of swill.

Kate Hoey, who was part of the Labour party that delivered the GFA that was Mo Mowlam's legacy was happily thrown out by Kate for a Brexit that will never deliver what was promised. Risking peace on the island of her birth.

Again, I have no words, but prison is a place that she should be visiting at some point.

Responsible for nothing

Today, the Education Minister, Gavin Williamson, suggested it was parent's responsibility to ensure their children were tested daily for COVID, and not his or the school's.

This is quite the remarkable statement.

Data from the US suggestes that without masks and distancing, 75% of children will have been infected by COVID by the beginning of December, and Mr Williamson is only to ready to make the sick children's parents carry the can for his own inaction.

Inaction because literally nothing has been done by the Department for Education for the return of children to schools in England and Wales on Thursday. Nothing about open windows, air purifiers, let along distancing, masks or testing.

I don't know what the outcome will be, but I feat it won't be good, and the Government will claim none of it will be their fault.

Figures for COVID have been climbing for several weeks now; infections, hospitalisations and deaths, though that has slowed over the weekend, mainly due to be being a weekend, and a three day one at that. When figures are released at 16:00 today, we will get a better idea of where the country is.

But it seems that between 100 and 200 deaths a day is now so normal as not to be mentioned on news bulletins.

UK forces left Kabul over the weekend, with thousands of locals who worked either for or with the UK left behind. Advice from the Foreign Secretary was for those who could, to make their way across borders to "safe" countries, even though Raab had failed to contact any of them to ensure that this would be allowed.

Any refugee who would travel to the UK in such a way would be subject to repatriation back to Kabul by the Home Secertary, as new laws would make such route to the UK illegal.

And the Home Secretary has passed on all responsibility and costs of intergration of Afgan refugess into UK socety soley the responsibility of local authorities, so now of it Ms Patel's resposnibility, either.

What is the actual point of Ministers and their departments if they have no actual responsibility?

Sunday 29th August 2021

Sometimes, its hard to say, exactly, when the season change. What I can say is that at about 14:00 on Sunday, summer ended and autumn arrived.

We have to have one of the living room windows open for the kittens, who are no longer kittens, but, you know. So, I sat in my jumper and shivered. Jools was out in the garden, sitting in what was left of the sunshine. Clouds rolled over and the breeze built up. Jools came in, and we agreed to close the windows and put the heating on.

IN an hour it was wonderfully warm.

But in August.

But, before then, it was still summer.

If only for a few hours.

Jools had a swimming session booked for seven, so I got her to drop her off at the Monument so I could walk down the cliffs to KIngsdown, looking for plant and butterflies.

If there had been butterflies to chase, I would have been delayed a while in KIngsdown, as it was, there were none, so I turned round to walk for home, meaning Jools didn't have to come to collect me, my fired fat legs would get me home.

Once through the gate on the cliffpath, I turn inland and take the path over the fields as signs advised going through Barrow Mount due to grazing cattle.

I pass a couple of people out looking for birds. THey ended up talking to each other babbling about wrynecks and other outlandish mythical birds. I left them babbling away as I walked back. There was a lady out just taking in the air, but she might have been looking for something, as I passed her on the way back to St Maggies.

THe light was spectacular at first, and there was even sunshine for a while, but not for long enough to tempt the roosting butterflies out for a bask.

The path over the fields was much less trodden, as the grass was very long, and damp with dew. So much so that my feet got soaked, so soaked I could feel the water in my socks and shoes, causing my toes to go all wrinkled, which I discovered back home.

The DIP was still overgorwn and still partly flooded at the bottom, but I could get through. Though my legs were a little sore.

Finally, past Fleet House, and then across the fields to home, where Jools was saiting to pop the kettle on for a brew and had even prepared the fruit ofr breakfast. Straight after the fruit, we heated up the crossants and brewed another coffee for second breakfast.

That hit the spot.

I sat down to write, edit some shots, and round off with a shower and shave, all ready in tme for the footy at two when I would try and fail to concentrate on Burnley v Leeds.

Leeds are always watchable, have fine skillful players. Burnley are a team of giants, who were fed raw meat and monkey glands before kick off, and crashed into tackles at every chance, and relied mostly on set pieces where their giant defenders would go up to threaten the Leeds goalie.

It ended 1-1, and I won't watch another Burnely game even if you paid me.

Depends on the amont of cash, of course.

That was followed by Wolves v Man Utd, which was a better game, though Wolves did all they could to score and when in front of goal create ever more bizarre ways to miss or fail to score. They should have won 3-0, so in reality lost 1-0.

We had cheese and crackers for supper, and somehow it was eight in the evening, and tme for #wildflowerhour, and after that it was nine and dark. Time for a chapter in the latest music book I'm reading.

The day was done.

Brexit blues

Well, being a Monday, so it has to be blues.

First up is the news that there is a chronic shortage of vials for blood testing, meaning doctors and consultants are having to be ensure only those in most need are put forward for a blood test.

This is another of one of those unexpected Brexit bonuses they failed to write on the side of a big red bus.

In what might be, or not, the straw that breaks the camel's back, it has emerged that there is a beer shortage in some areas, as breweries don't have enough drivers for their drays.

Posh grocer, Fortnum & Mason, have suspended deliveries to the EU because of paperwork.

So, not only has Britain under the leadership of Johnson and his Vote Leave cronies become PLague Island, he has ensured that we are the first country to have imposed economic trade barriers on ourself.

THat is one heck of an achievement.....

The Sunday Mail says

And I want to get this right.

"Let's unite with the EU...... to crush the curse of border bureaucracy.

Irony is dead.

The Mail seems to understand that as bad as things are now, they will get worse in October when the UK phases in some import checks, and again in January when all goods will be subjected to inspections.

Things about the TCA is its not about managing alaignment, but managing divergance.

On January 1st, the UK and EU had the same standards, but the point, the only point in Brexit is to diverge from these, otherwise there is no point in going through this. But divergance makes border controls all the more important and thorough.

If the Mail, and others, want to smooth trade, then alignment of standards is needed. But that is incompatable with Brexit, or the Government's definition of it.

Christmas is already being threatened, at least in the papers where there is talk of there being a fresh turkey shortage due to lack of staff for slaughter and processing, and now shortage of bacon for pigs in blankets due to import checks.

These are the consequence of the Brexit that Johnson wanted, the problems that were warned about, but ignored.

But it seems the message has not gotten through to the Mail of Brexiteers, that Brexit itself is the reason, nothing else, and the hardest version of Brexit imposed on us by Johnson means that there is a hard border. Somewhere. Between the UK and EU, just where that is.

NI is caught in the middle, but allowed to be in SM for some goods, but that means that goods from Britain to NI is subject to similar checks and inspections if it was going to the EU. Again, Johnson's choice.

I have written this so many times, you have read these so many times, how hard can it be for papers like the Mail and Brexiteers to understand. Leaving had consequences, you won: get over it.

Saturday 28th August 2021

It is the weekend.

And the last three day weekend of the year. Every few years, my birthday falls on one of the days of the holiday weekend, meaning that when growing up, and when the Red Arrows used to attend the Oulton Broad Regatta, I could pretend they came to celebrate my birthday.

I moved away and Oulton Broad could no longer afford to have the Red Sparrows come, so they no longer do a display at any time in OUlton Broad.

But you will be glad to know I still celebrate my firthday, but with less jelly and iced rings, more's the pity.

Last weekend, after finding the ALT in flower at Temple Ewell, I arranged a meet of the FB group on what was expected to to be the ebst day, weatherwise. As the week progressed, the forecast got worse, but at least there'd be no rain.

He said.

We had coffee, and Jools said she was going to walk to Dover along the cliffs, and I would meet her at the Sunrise Cafe once I was finished with the orchids. Her last remark was that there was rain in the air and she would take her rain jacket.

Bugger I thought.

THere was still half an hour to go, and it would probably clear up.

The rain got heavier.

Maybe its not raining inland.

I said.

It was.

I drove to Temple Ewell and parked behind the old pub, and one by one the six or so people arrived, and we were all ready to go at nine, and it was still raining. So I decide to leave the big camera in the car, and lead the group up through the wood and to the down above.

It was still raining, but not so hard, and soon stopped, but in a way I failed to notice. Later, the sun even came out and it got warm, so I took my rain coat off, so the mozzies could get to my fair skin and feast off my vintage blood. I am attractive to something. Apparently.

I showed them the larger colony, then walking back towards the gate we stopped and looked, and photographed just about every spike of ALT and Autumn Gentian we came to. Being cool and windy meant there were few butterflies about, and no skippers, sadly.

At half ten I texed Jools to say I was on my way down and would be in Snargate Street in 20 minutes, she replied to say she would be in the acfe and there was lots of parking.

I go in and Jools is waiting, we each order a seven piece breakfast and drink and toast. The Sunrise is a comminty place, pay what you can, and support the community. We pay a tenner each, covering the cost of someone less fortunate so they can eat.

The plan had been to go church crawling. I had cold wet feet, and I didn't fancy the drive in heavy bank holiday traffic: the port was as busy as we have seen it for 18 months, even as the school holidays come to ane end. I say we can go out Monday, on Bank Holiday. Leave early, back home early.

Probably.

We go home and I take of my soaking socks so I could warm up.

I put on the radio and write, the afternoon stretched out before me like a sporting festival, wth three games back to back, and Norwich back in action at three, playing Leicester at home.

Sadly, Norwich lost again, 2-1 and had a goal disallowed for a dodgy offside. Many thanks, VAR. So, no points from three, but are no longer bottom as Arsenal go bottom with the same goal difference, but having scored no goals at all, after losing to Citeh by 5-0 earlier.

In the evening game, Liverpool play Chelsea, which ends 1-1, and was rather entertaining.

By which point it was half seven, and after supper, we go to bed to read, and as darkness fell, I switched off the light and went to sleep.

Rock and roll.

Cats and dogs matter, brown lived don't......

There is a well connected guy called Pen Farthing. I kid you not.

He has friends in Government, and runs an animal charity, and through the week, "Pen" was arranging a flight from Kabul of the pets of UK officials.

Yesterday, his charity flight was the last civillian flight in and out of the airport.

Thousands of actual people who risked their lives in helping the UK Government and military were left behind.

Afgan Hounds lives matter, Afgan lived don't.

I love animals, we have four cats, but should the evacuation of pets be put above the lives of actual people?

Of course not.

These are the values the West have shown to ordinary Afgans who helped us, and we have abandoned.

One message from this lovely chap, Pen, to an FCO offical was, apparently: "if you don't help me, I will destroy you".

A word in your shell-like

This week I was interviewed for the A Word in Your Ear podcast, presented by former editors of Smash Hits, Q and The Word, and here is the resulting podcast/video:

I was asked to prep records, tickets, tat and all sorts, one from each decade, to talk about with Mark and David. We covered lots, and the most amazing thing, really, is that after my NWOBH phase, I went onto post punk, to electropop and finally to "indie" in gernaral and a decade listening to John Peel.

But as the chat was unplanned, we wouldn't know which direction a random comment could send the chat into.

So it was with this, as Hair and its second track took up a large part of the time.

ELO, Blondie and Pat Benatar all got mentions, and Love Will Tear us Apart got the best all time single, but nothing about New Order, Siuxsie, Echo and the Bunnyment, Cure and all the rest that filled my head and my handwritten charts for years.

So, I like all this and more. There is just good music, and bad music.

At the end I had stuff to talk about for another two hours, just not enough time, really.

If its still going next year, then I have loads more to talk about.

Until then.....

Friday 27th August 2021

Friday.

And in an usual turn of events, I was actually all caught up at work, so could relax and respond to crisis as they came in, rather than lay in bed and fret about them. Only joking, I no longer loose sleep over work related issues, but being able to fire off a reply within minutes of receiving the mail makes it look like I am efficient or some other nonsense.

Jools was up and out at quarter to six to go swimming, I had just got up as she was leaving through the back door.

Bye, I said.

I finish my coffee. Prepare breakfast, make a second coffee and start work.

Two hours of phone calls during which we compare horror stories of our week.

Eeeek!

At ten, Jools returns, I hep her unload the car, then cook leftover potatoes with grilled bacon and fried chipolatas along with a fried slice of home made bread, far more wonderful than a breakfast has cause to be!

I even took a photo:

And back to work as Jools put the rest of the shopping away, and moved on to the garden, deadheading and being generally busy little thing, while I earn my crust, being helpful. I hope.

And useful too.

Anyway, at half one or so, I see my colleagues in India and Denmark had finished for the day, I had been non-stop sice before seven, so I call it a day and power the leptop down.

It was the weekend.

Now, I could have sat and listened to the radio, surfing the net, as kids do these day. But no, put on my boots and drove to Temple Ewell to do some orchid hunting.

Even though I would be here on Saturday morning with the FB group, the forecast was better for Friday, and the wind less, so what better way to start a three day weekend?

None, whatsoever.

I parked behind the former pub, and walked up the track through the woods, climbing up all the time.

Out on the downs, I met a twotcher who I bump into from time to time, he tells me his bird watching news, and I regale him with my adventures in the world of orchids.

We part, and I walk down the slope and find the first of the spikes. Many more than last week, and those I saw last week were fully in flower, two tight spirals with white flowers showing all the way up. These are the fat Autumn Ladies Tresses, shouting that the orchid season is now drawing to an end, though these will show for maybe a month more, slowly going to see as the days and nighs become equal.

In the ungrazed paddock, I find dozens, if not hundreds of Autumn Gentians, all showing really good in the afternoon sun, with many more small plants all around. As another bonus there were a few Adonis Blues basking, and I managed to get a shot.

As I snapped one orchid, a Wall Brown landed on a Cat's Ear near me, so I was able to get the closest shots ever of this common by flighty butterfly.

And as I waslked to the gate for the stumble back down to the car, I see the largest ALT spike I have ever seen. A full six inches or more tall, and a spiral that went round the wpike at least twice.

Magnificent.

And a fine way to end the season.

I walk back down the down, get in the car and drive home, traffic being light for a Friday afternoon.

Being a Friday, there is the music quiz to look forward to, and I speak to my good friend in Canada, via FB Messanger which works amazingly well for a video call a quarter way round the world.

For free.

All you have to pay is all your personal information. Seems a bargain.

In the music quiz, I come 11th, so out of the points, but a fun time was had.

And back into the car to dash to Whitfild where Jen had planned a second birthday meal; a chinese with her and John before we let John take all our money at cards.

Seemed only fair.

We come back hoem at ten, pooped. I put some extra food out for the cats, and we go to bed.

Thursday 26th August 2021

I so wanted to sleep until about nine, but, of course, my brain had me awake at half four, waiting for dawn, reminding me of the things I had to do that day.

I lay in bed as Jools got up, and got herself ready before I went downstairs to run interfearence. And being the last working day of the week, she had so much to do, she left just about at six, leaving me here to muster my thoughts and gird my loins. As if you conduct an audit, you have to write an audit report and present it to the auditees, at which point they might just disagree.

I had three and a half hours to write the initial report, at least, and then next week I would finish the long version off.

It's still summer, but Thursday wasn't just cloudy and breezy, it was downright chilly too. And with the kittens still using the living room window to go out, I left that open, put a jumper and socks on in the hope of keeping warm. We know this has to be fixed before the winter, lest pissing wars will start up again. Its never simple, is it?

I look at my findings, look at the standard: I mean, I know something was wrong, but have to match it to a clause in the standard and justify it with evidence.

The task went on.

I had breakfast, and as I had time, made some bread to have for lunch. A mix of white and wholemeal flour, and once it was baked and cooled, after the closing meeting, I would have a thich crust, heavily buttered and smothered with apricot jam.

Just before the meeting started, the bread was done, so could cool through the meeting, and once I finished, boiled the kettle for a brew and cut the crust off, applied butter and then jam. Take into living room to listen to John Cooper Clark on a podcast.

This is living.

I try to solve a few issues through the rest of the day, but IT, you know, is shit.

I am so tired by half two, I really consider going to bed, but thought I had better stay up, so watch a documentary on the two Voyager missions, lasting 90 minutes, and revealing the drama behind the science. Something that man made, is now in interstellar space, heading towards destination unknown, and will just keep going and going, long after the human race and the planet Earth are no more.

It was so cold that aubergine didn't seem to be enough, so I defrsot some crispbakes, find that the corn had gone off so I defrost some creamed spinach, and make some mashed potao with two teaspoons of the salted herbs that Liza sent from Canada last year. We have a real taste for that now, and potatoes won't be the same wthout the herbs.

Jools comes home and we eat well.

Nomnomnom.

I jsut about stay awake to listen to Marc Riley on 6 Records, and listen to the second hour laying in bed, just about staying awake.

Phew, rock and roll.

Never stop

I ventured into the world of Brexiteer Twitter yesterday, where facts are ignored or an inconvenience.

What do the remoaners never shut up about Brexit, there's a pandemic on, dontch know? Was one of the more common type of remarks.

I have news.

Contrary to what I may imply, Brexit is over.

The UK has left the EU and the articles and regulations no longer apply.

That is true.

What is up for discussion is the long term relationship we will have with the bloc.

The same people who delivered the referendum result, negotiated Brexit and are now trying to wriggle out of the consequences of the latter.

Take two exapmples:

REACH regulations. There is no actual benefit from the UK leaving the chemical regualtions of the EU (REACH) and setting up the UK's, or Britain and NI's own regulations, if they do not diverge from the EU's. It will be for the sake of political dogma.

It is the same for GDPR: the UK is now proposing our own, which will mean that UK user's data will be able to be harvested and sold.

But, in both standards, different areas, if a company, either UK or EU, wants to trade in both areas, will have to show compliance to both standards. Double the costs, and with no effect other than to increase costs, mainly for UK businesses and reducing choice for UK consumers, when those EU companies who do not want to comply with UK rules or can't afford to, opt out. And at the same time, doubling the costs and requirements for UK companies that want to have a presence in the EU.

It is madness, and will give EU companies an advantage as the UK GOvernment, in the name of sovereignty, imposes economic sanctions upon ourselves and sells of more of our, UK cotizen's rights to the highest bidder.

Meanwhile, UK companies are pressing for limited lossening of immigration rules to allow drivers, care workers and so on to enter and work here for a year at a time, while our freedom of movement will still be stopped.

Is this the Brexit you voted for?

I heard a fisherman complaining that this isn't the Brexit he voted for.

Well, it is the Brexit ohnson and Frost negotiated, and Johnson was elected on the back of implementing. So, if he voted for Johnson in 2019, it is the Brexit he voted for. Just not the one promised, but the very limits in the export of live shellfish the fisherman complained about, were the very rules the UK helped shape as a member state, before it left. And voted for.

You really could not make this shit up.

Wednesday 25th August 2021

Four months (!) to Christmas.

Get the sprouts on.

That, and it was birthday.

56 years before, halfway though TOTP, Mum's favourite TV show, I decided to enter the world, thus meaning Mum missed the show.

And in celebration, I would be conducting the second day of a three day audit, via Teams, in Spain.

Yay, me.

I have an extra half an hour before I have to work, just as well as I slept though the alarm again, and only woke up as Jools came back up for a shower.

She is leaving as I drain my coffee, I go up for a shower so I feel half human for the audit. Just not sure which half is human, or what the other half might be....

The audit starts, so eyes down, and your starter for ten:

It wasn't that bad, but I find some issues, which in resolving show bigger problems.

Sigh.

Its what I get paid for, I guess.

We are done at half two, and with the sun out and the wind having dropped, it looked good enough to go for a walk.

With camera.

I set off, not across the fields, but up the track to Collingwood, and then down the smaller Dip and up to Windy Ridge. I was, of course looking for butterflies, I see a few, but not the QoS I was hoping to find. In fact the number of species was down.

I do get a Specked Wood baskig on a blade of grass, which looked fine, and later on a Hornet Mimic Hoverfly perched on a wire fence and looked stunning in the sunshine.

Not that many new flowers to be seen, other than a huge colony of Tansey I had not seen before, the first I had seen around here outside of our garden, which is over-run with the stuff, but bees love it.

I walk back home, pack up the work computer and ponder the issues I'm going to raise in the audit report.

I make a brew and watch Only Connect, and as there was no dinner to cook, I could chill out and be at the cat's beck and call.

Jools came home, and got changed as we were going out for dinner, to the Old Lantern for a Japanese meal, an even the pub does once a month, with the chef coming down from that London. That had got me a table for four, and to my surprise, considering she came to Japan with us and ate what we did, Jen said she didn't want to come, and nether did JOhn, which wasn't unexpected, we asked our neighbours if they wanted to come, and the said they did.

So, at half six we drove through Martin Mill and up the hill to Martin Village, getting the last parking space at the pub.

We go in and ere shown to a table, Jools and I taking the church style pew, which over three hours proved to be quite uncomfortable.

We have cocktails (min and Bev's booze-free), then we were served up the following over two hours:

Clear soup with grilled sea bass.

Yellow tail capriccio, mixed salad with wasabi dressing.

Beef tataki, dried garlic, spring onion ponzu sauce.

Nigiri: Bluefin tuna, fatty tuna, sea bream, salmon, salmon skin, scallop, snow crab, wagyu, salmon avocado roll.

Japanese dessert with fruit .

Warm saki. (I had just a very small amount).

It was all very good indeed, we talked and laughed with Steve and Bev, of course, and we had a fine old time. I thanked the former sleeping owner of the pub, Andy, who squeezed us in. We shake his hand and say we'll take the chef home with us.

It was half ten, so we drove back through Martin Mill and up the hill over the Deal Road to home.

Phew.

Pooped.