Blue skies and a Puffin
A beautiful blue skied day, and hot. Walked home this sunny morning from Lorraine's place and got to work on poems. And then in the afternoon caught the train to Southease where I met Kate at the station with Puffin her new dog, a lurcher. Puffin is a rescue dog, and Kate and her are bonding well. In fact she'll soon be reading that Puffin like a book. (Arf.)
It is a playfully nippy thing and zooms at full tilt into the backs of your legs, but apart from that and its perpetually long face, it is a lovely dog. We walked to the nearby village of Rodmell along the banks of the river Ouse. Everywhere unseasonably sunbaked after a short dry spell. We decided to take a short cut across the fields but found our way blocked by fences and hedges. Puffin when on a lead simply sits down and has a look around quite often.
Great to walk and talk with Kate ambling around the fields for an hour or two. Eventually we went back to the river and followed its sweep across the river plain. Kate pointed out the spot where Virginia Woolf killed herself, where there was a single white swan ghosting about on the water.
Then across the fields into Rodmell. Passing sheep and gambolling lambs (poker I think). There we headed for the Abergavenny Arms and drank a cold beer (PK) and a cold cider (First Matie) outside in the suntrap pub garden.
Farewell to Kate there, who had to carry a tired Puffin home, and I taxied to Lewes and trained home to Brighton, to meet my lovely Lorraine. We had another quick drink, and ate some Chinese food, in a new restaurant where we seemed to be the only customers and were serenaded by a young Chinese guy on his keyboard.
A beautiful blue skied day, and hot. Walked home this sunny morning from Lorraine's place and got to work on poems. And then in the afternoon caught the train to Southease where I met Kate at the station with Puffin her new dog, a lurcher. Puffin is a rescue dog, and Kate and her are bonding well. In fact she'll soon be reading that Puffin like a book. (Arf.)
It is a playfully nippy thing and zooms at full tilt into the backs of your legs, but apart from that and its perpetually long face, it is a lovely dog. We walked to the nearby village of Rodmell along the banks of the river Ouse. Everywhere unseasonably sunbaked after a short dry spell. We decided to take a short cut across the fields but found our way blocked by fences and hedges. Puffin when on a lead simply sits down and has a look around quite often.
Great to walk and talk with Kate ambling around the fields for an hour or two. Eventually we went back to the river and followed its sweep across the river plain. Kate pointed out the spot where Virginia Woolf killed herself, where there was a single white swan ghosting about on the water.
Then across the fields into Rodmell. Passing sheep and gambolling lambs (poker I think). There we headed for the Abergavenny Arms and drank a cold beer (PK) and a cold cider (First Matie) outside in the suntrap pub garden.
Farewell to Kate there, who had to carry a tired Puffin home, and I taxied to Lewes and trained home to Brighton, to meet my lovely Lorraine. We had another quick drink, and ate some Chinese food, in a new restaurant where we seemed to be the only customers and were serenaded by a young Chinese guy on his keyboard.
Below Virginia Woolf reincarnated as a swan. Kate and Puffin and lambs, a skull-pebble in the path, and some lambs.
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