Let others set the pace
Another gorgeous day. Lorraine leapt up to look at the marathon runners, thousands of whom were running in Brighton's second marathon, scamper past the end of her road which is close to their starting point in Preston Park. I instead slept like a large baby, but one dreaming of cups of tea.
Drifted home after chatting to Beth and Sam. Later Lorraine and Beth shopping, while I met Paul and his son VJ by the seafront. This absolutely crammed as the finishing line was by the sea, and the freakishly hot day meant there were thousands on the beach too. Some runners looking like wet rags, others remarkably happy and springy. These people are like those of another species entirely. I heard one runner telling her family that many had succumbed to the heat during the 26 mile run.
Paul sporting his black shirt with flames. Off to the Black Lion which has a beer garden, but where we sat was a bit more like a beer tunnel full of cigarette smoke and coldness. VJ happily playing with his dad's iPhone as we discussed the important matters of charity publications and so on. Lorraine came by having shopped, and I leeched onto her body warmth as we had sat in the only freezing part of Brighton.
Fond farewell to Paul and his boy. Perhaps it was the flames on Paul's shirt but I found myself craving some Tandoori chicken, so Lorraine and I simply had some, with a certain degree of naughtiness. Went our separate ways then, me home to lurk with Calliope who has been feeling neglected. Toby called late and we had a long chat about the virtues of the hulk leg machines and so on.
Another gorgeous day. Lorraine leapt up to look at the marathon runners, thousands of whom were running in Brighton's second marathon, scamper past the end of her road which is close to their starting point in Preston Park. I instead slept like a large baby, but one dreaming of cups of tea.
Drifted home after chatting to Beth and Sam. Later Lorraine and Beth shopping, while I met Paul and his son VJ by the seafront. This absolutely crammed as the finishing line was by the sea, and the freakishly hot day meant there were thousands on the beach too. Some runners looking like wet rags, others remarkably happy and springy. These people are like those of another species entirely. I heard one runner telling her family that many had succumbed to the heat during the 26 mile run.
Paul sporting his black shirt with flames. Off to the Black Lion which has a beer garden, but where we sat was a bit more like a beer tunnel full of cigarette smoke and coldness. VJ happily playing with his dad's iPhone as we discussed the important matters of charity publications and so on. Lorraine came by having shopped, and I leeched onto her body warmth as we had sat in the only freezing part of Brighton.
Fond farewell to Paul and his boy. Perhaps it was the flames on Paul's shirt but I found myself craving some Tandoori chicken, so Lorraine and I simply had some, with a certain degree of naughtiness. Went our separate ways then, me home to lurk with Calliope who has been feeling neglected. Toby called late and we had a long chat about the virtues of the hulk leg machines and so on.
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