Sunshine and windsurfing

If you want to know if people are mad or not, simply have a look at their gardens. The next door neighbour to Mum and Mas has replaced the lawn with gravel, has a pair of concrete dogs which he waters sometimes, and recently proudly showed Mas some nasty looking plastic flowers, tucked out of sight of his own back widows. After gazing blearily these garden atrocities from the bedroom window, I hoofed downstairs to have a fast breakfast. Made off with five jars of bramble jelly and wild plum jam too.

A beautiful sunny day. Mas gave me a lift to Stanmore, where I spoke to Lorraine on the phone before tubing to work. Into the tube found myself standing next to a nicely presented woman who reeked astonishingly of garlic. Work again perfectly manageable, writing lots of bitty things. I slunk off to Kitty's Cafe in the industrial park to buy some lunch. Waiting to take away my Pad Thai I sat next to two men, an American and a South African, who were discussing cicadas.

One of my colleagues constantly playing music by Rodriguez, who is an American musician of sixties and seventies vintage, who achieved little or nothing in the US. He did however become massive in South Africa. A film has just been released about this, and he is suddenly getting loads of belated attention in the US. A remarkable and heartening story.

Speedily home. Lorraine appeared shortly after with a sun-burned face, having spent the afternoon surfboarding, motorboating and kayaking. She was salty, and glowing after a really fun day. It was too late to cook, so we slunk off to The Shahi and had an enjoyable meal. Betty phoning while we were talking and cheekily laughing with Laura at the idea of Lorraine on a surfboard.


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