Ambush

Morning spent doing bits of admin, like securing a new interviewee for the podcast, and a little bit of writing. Lorraine doing story time in the Library, then taking fish and chips around to Pat and Maureen and hanging out with them for a bit. Then this evening she collected Ken from Lewes Station, who is here to spend a day with Pat and Maureen tomorrow.

Early evening off to meet Anton in Brighton. Fascinated by a woman talking loudly from Bishopstone to Brighton about the care of dogs, including the benefits of feeding them cumin.  

Brighton lively and the pubs full, it being a pay day Friday. Had a bite to eat in The Hampton, and then drifted down to the Brick looking out for the great parade of planets. Before ducking in for a glasses of their two thirds of a pint beers, and played some bones, where I continued my losing streak. Great to catch up despite having to devoted a few minutes to raging about Trump and the end of the postwar order. 

Anton doing a little painting again with Camino in Spain. A very cheery night, although Anton spied a bottle of some noxious drink called Slivovitz featured in one of his favourite books, The Good Soldier Svejk. He'd never seen this before. After trying it, we decided that it was likely to be a one-time experiment. A tiny trace of plum, overwhelmed by a lighter fluid taste. 

Walked over the great hill back to the station, where I missed my train by two minutes. On the train home watched the televised ambush of Zelenskyy by Trump and his chin-free attack weasel Vance. An absolute disgrace, and amazing to see these geniuses transparently following Putin's agenda... In the name of protecting American interests. We have entered the mirror world. Trump's demonic genius is in making the opposition feel drained and powerless. He is an unhinged failed human, and in other circumstances would be an object of pity. His anthill of enablers are another matter. 

Home and Lorraine in bed, and Ken who'd travelled from Ireland, already in bed too.