Bank Holidays

I don’t know where you live (obviously) but around here we were promised torrential rain and a lot of wind up us for the Bank Hols. Consequently, we planned very little that meant leaving the house without a full length sou’wester and a compass. By Monday afternoon, looking back on a weekend when the sparrows have been passing out with heatstroke – I feel we may have underachieved a little. Do not blame me – blame the Met Office. (Except Tomasz Schafernaker he’s my favourite – the only weather man I have ever seen who comes over a bit louche) Anyway – digressing. We tidied out a bit. HOH sorted out some of his record collection on the dining table which went down tremendously well with me. 
Incidentally – you can see at the back an album by someone called Barbara Lewis (no – me neither) with a rather attractive blond white couple on the cover. Actually,  this is a photo of Barbara Lewis

Spot the deliberate mistake? Well this album was released in around 1965 when black faces didn’t sell records so the rather lovely Ms Lewis was replaced with two refugees from a knitting pattern. Er… It’s beyond words to be honest. Anyway – digressing.
Sunday morning was an all age service in which the children shared the story of Noah and the Ark with us. It was brilliantly done and kudos to the person who saw no reason not to to have children in masks, an ark made of cardboard boxes, a paddling pool full of water, and the baptismal tank ready for a baptism all on the same stage. Well done you and no-one died which was good news.
Monday and I achieved the target of “Throwing Out 50 Things” set by some guru or other with very little trouble. I did this by cleaning out my underwear drawer – easy. How I ever got some of those knickers over my hips is a mystery to me. So then we woke up to the fact that it was actually another beautiful day and we walked over Jennycliff. This is the view from Jennycliff. 

Plymouth Herald
So that’s alright then.

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1 Comment

  1. September 3, 2015 / 2:24 pm

    Please reassure me that when the Met Office stops providing the BBC with the weather, we will not lose Tomasz Schafernaker. Or Matt Taylor [I am sure he has a sweet old granny, knitting blankets in a Welsh Chapel somewhere] And that we will still be able to go to sleep to the sound of the Shipping Forecast being read properly…

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