Supper in Steyning

Brighton binmen are striking, so we scabbed off to the dump with some of broken things and recycling. There Lorraine suddenly got a volcanic road rage when her parking space was stolen.

Soothingly to the garden centre to get plants and catfood. Home after shopping, and I gave the stair carpet a kind of hair cut of the trailing threads dangling from the worn bits with scissors, and spoke to the lovely First Matie on the phone.

To Steyning to visit Dawn in her new flat whose living room has lovely views of the Downs and treetops. It is so nice to be able to see rain pouring down on the hills from the sofa, and I watched two wood pigeons bumping nasties on a stump with a kind of David Attenborough enjoyment. We had planned a quick walk around the village and surrounding countryside but the weather had turned vile again.

Instead we assembled a dining table and talked for hours and ate roast chicken and helpings of yummy veg and roasties, plus the rhubarb crumble that Lorraine had prepared before we left. Telling them about my grandparent's spooky house in Guernsey, Dawn told us her idea for a history book, a rather a good one, and Lorraine relaxed and cheery.

Drove home for Match of the Day, and to squeeze Lorraine's aching feet on the sofa.  The weekend had gone in a twinkling.