Taking grist to the mill

A nice slow start with my Lorraine. Thank God for Saturday mornings. After the treat of a bacon sandwich breakfast, Lorraine had to do a spot of work, and I updated my notebook blog for the first time in a while, based on something I had seen in the play yesterday.  Lorraine getting antsy and so had to be taken out for a walk.

We drove off to Woods Mill and had a happy hour or so mooching about avoiding the mud and looking at the abundant water there. Allow Lorraine to walk among trees and nature and she instantly gets very happy, which is lovely to see, pointing to faded looking things and cooing Look! Hellebores!

Home via Sainsburys, where Beth came in with her musical new boyfriend called John. Rather felt for the lad having to meet Lorraine and me, but he seems a likeable man. He is just about to go back to Brighton institute of modern music where he studies drums, to continue his studies having taken a year or so out -- and currently works managing the pub Beth's been working in.

As a special treat we went off to The Ginger Pig in Hove. The Ginger restaurants have got a good reputation, and while it was all pleasant enough Lorraine and I found the food somewhat underwhelming and fussy. Perhaps we were spoiled by our exquisite heights of fine dining in Japan. However we had a cheery evening. Lorraine and I melting off the Basketmakers, leaving the young un's to it, before heading home to watch Match of the Day. Chelsea doing well, and Newcastle's manager getting sent off for faintly headbutting an opposing player, for which there was quite a bit of synthetic tut-tutting.

And so to bed.

Below the stark March trees around Woods Mill.