Spitfire in a blue sky Off into the countryside this afternoon, to Borde Hill. It is a heavenly English garden with some quirky dells and ponds. Annoyingly my camera battery ran out the second I fixed on a scene. However Lorraine, Beth and I wandered about happily in the mysteriously empty gardens. There were old fashioned roses that I could have smelled for hours, lavender, mock orange, and all kinds of fragrances, including a strange deep red, poppy-sized flower with an unmistakable aroma of chocolate. We sat the dappled shade under a stately tree, and listened to the wind moving through the trees all around. The sky was faultless blue and the day had a timeless quality, only enhanced when a wartime Spitfire flew low over the green valley. Later went to the fish shop, and I bought some bloodworms for my fish and also eight red eyed tetras which were divided between Beth's aquarium and mine. In the evening watched the world cup final. A fairly dour uninspiring affair where Spain ...
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