Hastings was good, as was the sunshine, I wonder if we would be different people if we all had sufficient of sunlight and ............holidays.
Lots of bossy magpies up on the East cliffs; a couple of determined crows quartering the grass every day - they found an abandoned apple and spent a merry couple of days pecking it to the core and beyond.
The seagulls screamed from chimneys and all high points, often the top of cars which they strutted around on as if the car was a ragged rock round which we ragged rascals ran.
All the birds soared in wonderful swooping glides on the thermals, what kind of people would we be if we could fly in the sunshine, and scream and curse whenever we feel the urge.
Couldn't resist a couple of fish and chip suppers, scrumptious, I had forgotten how good hot fat batter and starch can taste.
Also a lovely spicy lamb casserole and another night an even more scrumptious cassolet - duck and herby sauage squeezed among the beans at the Dragon. Nothing like it at home - a kind of wine bar, but a down market arty one with odd tables and chairs. low light and jazz on the vinyl. Almost like being young and intellectual again with black eye liner and nail varnish. Though my mother told me once that she wore black nail varnish when she was young, [with shoulder pads and a big hat and 3" heels clambering over the ruins of London to the office, she claims]
Why can't we stay young, only our thoughts and understanding maturing, then when we finally get bored we can switch off.
Lots of bossy magpies up on the East cliffs; a couple of determined crows quartering the grass every day - they found an abandoned apple and spent a merry couple of days pecking it to the core and beyond.
The seagulls screamed from chimneys and all high points, often the top of cars which they strutted around on as if the car was a ragged rock round which we ragged rascals ran.
All the birds soared in wonderful swooping glides on the thermals, what kind of people would we be if we could fly in the sunshine, and scream and curse whenever we feel the urge.
Couldn't resist a couple of fish and chip suppers, scrumptious, I had forgotten how good hot fat batter and starch can taste.
Also a lovely spicy lamb casserole and another night an even more scrumptious cassolet - duck and herby sauage squeezed among the beans at the Dragon. Nothing like it at home - a kind of wine bar, but a down market arty one with odd tables and chairs. low light and jazz on the vinyl. Almost like being young and intellectual again with black eye liner and nail varnish. Though my mother told me once that she wore black nail varnish when she was young, [with shoulder pads and a big hat and 3" heels clambering over the ruins of London to the office, she claims]
Why can't we stay young, only our thoughts and understanding maturing, then when we finally get bored we can switch off.
The value of old things did raise a finger for attention as old town has many, many junk shops. The lady in flibbertigibbet [or some such] reckons she could sell anything, even wet fish, to anyone. She didn't stock wet fish but maybe it was in her experience. I bought a double white cotton sheet, presumably from a failed hotel of which there are probably many as Hastings is not what it was, one look at the poor old pier gives you a glimpse of the ghost of past glories. The thick white Egyptian cotton was irresistible, one day i will dye it.
