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Showing posts from June, 2013

Pigging out on pork

Up late, after much needed snoozes. I sprang up to go to the reassuringly middle-class Arkwrights shop to buy the fixings for a large breakfast. L and I cooking together, as Betty and her pals Amy and Millie sloped down having crept in shortly before dawn. Had a humongous breakfast with these girls. They sing lots in the morning. It's good to have Betty back home, and to see Amy who we'd not seen for some time. I got on with my affairs in the afternoon and Lorraine and Betty went off shopping and returned with the makings of a vast Sunday roast. They sat together conspiring and looking at clothes on the iPad and laughing at pictures of internet cats. Rosie came by for supper, and we all gorged like mad things. Delicious food, roast pork with crackling, a multiplicity of vegetables and apple crumble afterwards. Rosie persistently doing her rather excellent Welsh and Yorkshire accents. All sprawled about afterwards with stomachs like bowling balls. Watched some Glastonbury mu

Fun in the sun

A beautiful day of warm sun. Up early as Lorraine had a hot stone massage with Jewel, like I had the other day. I decided to go to the gym, after tidying up the place a bit (we had a house viewing) and taking Betty a cup of tea. Feeling slightly tetchy in the gym, and only did the bare minimum, but better than nothing. Felt much better for a hot shower, and mooched off to find a very relaxed Lorraine and we went for a cup of tea in the Marwood, then went to sit by the sea in the warm sun. I then bought three quality shirts at bargain prices, then we drifted happily through the old lanes looking at wedding bands. Bused back home and went up the hill to sit in the sun garden of The Signalman, where we met Matt and Isy who, much to my pleasure, were in Brighton looking at houses as they are considering a move here. My liver and kidneys giving little squirms of apprehension, for Matt is always the centre of a good deal of enthusiastic and liquid socialising. Andros and Sophie had unexp

Good cheer

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Somewhat blearily off to work this morning, hung over and leaving keys behind. Keen to get in early but today the train was late, and it was raining. Disclosed the concepts I had been working on this morning, and everyone seemed pleased, which was good. Off for lunch at a pub called The Somers Town Coffee House, actually a boozer, but a rather nice one, which served food in lunchoxes. Regrettable amount of punning ensued with the gentlemen admiring one another's lunchboxes, and me asking First Matie not to look at mine and so on. Food in the boxes fine too. Walked back to the office with Slug, having sensibly drunk only soda water. Getting on really well with Slug these days. Feeling a bit tired this afternoon, and was pleased when I could answer the call of the seagull and I could return to Brighton. Very tired, and tried to reboot myself by listening to a guided meditation. Arrived home just as Malcom and Lynn were arriving. Had some bubbly with them, and opened a present the

Matty-boy's news

Another London day. Perhaps because of going to the gym the night before, I was starving by the time lunchtime arrived, and welcomed First Matie's invitation to slope off to The King of Falafel where I bought a tasty chicken shawarma wrap and we ate back in the office. An interesting days work, and the best kind for me, where I am simply allowed to sit with a pad and have ideas about a brief. Thursday is the evening of free boozes in the agency, so also welcomed Matty boy's suggestion to join in in one. He told me then that he is going to be a father as Isy is expecting. Manly handshakes and congratulations over some beer and wine, and then proceeded to join in the fun office drinks with people from the agency. Interesting conversation with Lisa from Germany, and had a long chat with her about acting and liking Heidegger. Meeting Germans a good deal lately. Home fairly late and dozing on the train, before heading blearily home to Lorraine and floating blissfully into bed.

It's a date

Tea and toast this morning in Edgware, Mum and Mas about to spend the day preparing to visit France for a few days with Tanya and Robert. Enjoyed walking off to Stanmore in the fresh-ish air. Yippe! A text from Lorraine to say we've booked the registrar for the wedding: Saturday 26th October.  Now it's about finding the money to pay for it. Looking forward to to this beano immensely. Then down to Euston. Another pleasant day at work, and everyone seemed pleased enough in the reviewing progress meeting this afternoon. First Matie had cycled into work for the last couple of days, and this, in combination with glimpsing my sumo-like self in the mirror of the bedroom at mum's house meant that when I got home, I simply dropped my stuff off and went to the gym for a virtuous late work out. Slightly starving when I got home, but reheated some old vegetable chilli and drank a good deal of water. Deliciously virtuous. Nice to be back snoozing in my own bed with my own Lorraine

Reading pleasure

Off to the smoke again, in sunshine. Reading more of The Pleasure of the Text, by Roland Barthes, which was on my reading list while at university, but only now, thirty years later, am I actually savouring it properly and not trying to speed read it. Fascinating about the bliss of reading. Makes me want to smoke Gitanes in a raincoat. Work fun, and sloped off for lunch with Slug and First matie. I had already consumed hummus and oat biscuits at my desk. Had a cheeky beer at lunchtime for the first time in absolutely ages, and after having first worked with Slug about ten years ago, am only now really getting to know him. After work off by tube to Stanmore to see Mum and Mas now with two cats. The new interloper, Felix, a nervous black and white cat. And of course Salty, who is full of the status anxiety that comes from finding that you are now on equal footing with nothing better than a stray. Attended to some wine with Mum and sat about chatting with Mum and Mase for some hours.

Up to London

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Up sleepily to the Smoke this morning, working on the business book on my laptop and sipping tea from my flask. Feeling less sore throaty and wussy this morning. A pleasant day at work, doing some interesting work before galloping back to St Pancras and home to Brighton listening to a podcast. Lorraine meanwhile had broken off from work this afternoon, grabbed Dawn and had been doing wedding business. They looked at the room in the Pavilion that we might use, and discussed available days with the registry office, and popped back to the venue we looked at for afterwards. It seems October 26th is all but in the bag, will confirm things shortly. I'm excited. Although it has to be said that the Kenny coffers are squirming with apprehension. Arrived home shortly before 8.00pm and lorraine and I made steamed veg, fish and brown rice. I like these nights, although Lorraine is tetchy on her low calorie days and has to be handled carefully. Thinking of planning an intervention, gather

A little facetime

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Slightly dreary Sunday. Both L and I feeling slightly under the weather with sore throats. We did have the intense excitement however of going down to the Brighton Marina, walking about  in windy carparks and having the car washed. The sea a peevish green, and very wild for June. Did shopping and so on, and returned home only to crash out on the sofa. Rousing ourselves from time to time to write letters from giraffes, and discuss at some length wedding plans until my head hurt. Lorraine playing on her new iPhone and syncing it with her iPad. When you scratch the surface of Lorraine just underneath is a tech nerd. She is also pleased to have an iPhone as she can play Candy Crush on that too. She has been using iPhone facetime with Beth too, which is rather good. The faces come up really clearly. I had never used it until today either, when I facetimed Lorraine who was sitting next to me for a conversation. Then we watched Les Revenants , which like Twin Peaks appears to have a shape

Greene Room

Up fairly brightly this morning. Off on a series of missions after breakfast. But not before Matt had texted me to listen to a Radio 4 news show which featured a play about Gordon Brown, which Matt and I have been discussing writing an opera about. We went to check on a venue for our wedding party. We looked at the Greene Room, named after Graham Greene, upstairs in the Cricketers. Lorraine in work mode, and shaking hands with people. It seems an excellent venue though. Also walked about doing some shopping, Lorraine's phone contract was up and now she is the proud owner of an iPhone 4s like mine. Except hers is a black one. The pleasant lad who dealt with us is in the TAs and had lately returned from Afghanistan, not often that I find it hard to imagine what someone has been through as I talk to them. Went to give back a plastic pistol to Matt, who had used it to brandish during his stampede of a few weeks ago. Had a cup of tea at his place and were impressed with Irish Tom wh

Strides

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Worked at home, then packed up and went to the gym for another workout. From there to the ideologically unsound Starbucks where I consumed a cinnamon swirl and a large cup of tea, and had another good session. I can't understand exactly why I work well in Starbucks when I have a perfectly good study. I can only put it down to a simple change of perspective, and perhaps that I had been exercising in the gym. Really making great strides with the book. In the afternoon contacted by the folks in Tavistock Square, to discover that I am wanted for freelance up in London next week. Only omnipotent God knows what the story will be on Monday. But the prospect of a bit of coffer top up definitely pleasing. Lorraine out with various ladies, and Anton, called around for me. He was only partially recovered from a lively night taken out by the agency he employs, which involved several shots called Jägerbombs. I had a few drinks as Anton supped glasses of water and the occasional half, in Th

The victims of Mrs Nasty

At the crack of dawn this morning, First Matie took Mary her mother to hospital for her hip replacement operation. Unfortunately the surgery had to be cancelled at the last minute thanks to a cat scratch near the site of the incision perpetrated by Mrs Nasty, the cat who lives with Katie's mother in the Forest of Dean. Naturally galling for Mary. But it also meant that First Matie's journey from London was in vain, and that her holidays had to be rescheduled so she could look after her mother in a few weeks. Mrs Nasty's disruption spread from the Forest of Dean, to Leeds where Kate's brother had to also change his holiday plans, down to Brighton where the pesky feline has lost me a week's freelance work, as I was going to be used as cover for Katie. She called me in the evening, and we laughed about the influence of Mrs Nasty, who is like one of those chaotic butterflies whose single wing flap causes disaster on the other side of the world. The plus side is that

Chortling Martians

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An excellent two days on the book.  I have been writing about aliens in advertising, which has compelled me to watch the ancient Cadbury's Smash commercial, with its ridiculous chortling martians mocking humankind for mashing up potatoes as opposed to reconstituting a nasty starchy gloop. Off to have a hair cut, as the sheep head thing was happening again. A beautiful day it was too, despite the heat nicely fermenting the piles of rubbish on the streets. After my crop, off to the gym where I bumped into Claudius, where we discussed medical matters and the Shakespeare Heptet before a very satisfying session. Nice to saunter home in the sun. Otherwise, property various toings and froings over my house in the Twitten which I am preparing to get valued as well as Lorraine weasel wrestling her estate agents. Stressful. Eventually discovered that I am not needed at Tavistock Square tomorrow, which gives me another day to get on with the book, good news as I am in the zone.

Zombie dodging

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The Tobster's birthday. A good morning's work on the book, revelling in a bit of clarity and time. Broke off to go to the gym, a spontaneous carefree feeling as I trundled creakily on the cross trainer, and even did a bit of rowing on the rowing machine. Feeling cheery all day. Lorraine singing in her choir and I walked off to the old market in Hove to hear some poetry and read a few of mine. Sat awkwardly at a table with uncommunicative poets until the thing was over and beat a retreat. Not really enjoying the poetry there, and can't enter the social side of it with any gusto. Walked back along Western Road loving the fresh air after being in a stuffy room, and being able to glimpse the sea. There has been a rubbish collectors industrial action lately, and central Brighton is disfigured by piles of rubbish being spread about in the breeze. Several homeless people about, and I hurried past a ring of half a dozen homeless folks in a doorway. On the way home, I met Ma

Love and French Zombies

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A sober day of restraint. Up late and off shopping, after eating a Quorn sausage sandwich with mustard in bed, brought to me by my lovely, and discussing plans for the wedding. Drove off, taking circuitous routes around the place to avoid the bulgy-calfed London to Brighton bicycle riders. I needed a new office chair, mine having spontaneously exploded a week or so ago while I was innocently sitting on it. We ended up at a place called Staples where I bought a chair called a Tweddle, which after assembling (and then reassembling it as I noticed it didn't look like the picture on the Chinese instructions) comfortable on the back, but a tad unforgiving on the rear. Perhaps my buns will steel themselves. Otherwise shopping with Lorraine. I always thought Lorraine and I were very happy together, but it seems that having become engaged has made us even closer. Pootling about shopping together great fun. Life is sweet. Eating salad this evening, and Lorraine went off to meet one of h

Hangovers and hot stones

Dawn bright as a button before leaving early this morning. Lorraine finding getting up more difficult and stayed in bed till around 1pm, having had breakfast in bed. I got up early being plagued by despicable cats. I was feeling queasy after last night's liveliness. Found a pile of cat sick in the bedroom, which I cleaned up. Fed the ungrateful weasels. Calliope guzzled her food as if she had been starved for many weeks, vomited it up twice, necessitating the cleaning of warm sick from two further locations. Queased off to see Jewel for a 12 o'clock appointment where I had an hour's massage, with hot stones. Never had hot stones before, but they were hot and slid nicely around all the evil bits of my back. Came out from my massage being able to stand up straight for the first time in what feels like weeks. Jewell does an excellent job and I left feeling like a new man. Even the queasiness had worn off. I sensibly made another appointment for a month's time. A nice

My spirit eats oranges

Woke up having had a dream that I was with Lorraine in a caravan parked in Tanfield Avenue in Neasden. A street my family lived in till I was 12.  A golden eagle was flying around the caravan, and Lorraine opened the door to it and the eagle walked in. She fed it with oranges, which it seemed to enjoy. I think it was my spirit animal. Up and another good morning on my book. Lorraine working from home too. Today I was writing about the Dutch angle or Dutch tilt, which is also known as the Batman angle. This is where the camera is tilted away from the horizontal. In the 1960s Batman series, the villains were always shown in their various lairs with a Dutch tilt, to emphasise their crooked scheming. After eating some vegetable chili at home, L and I had a naughty evening drinking with Dawn, Anton, Rosie in the Battle of Trafalgar. I think it was the normally light drinking Dawn who suggested drinking Tuaca, which is a sweet liqueur. A noisy night with much laughter. Felt a bit sorry

Zen and strawberry tarts

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At last a good day's work on the book. Head full of Zen stuff as a consequence and did an ensō this morning, which I found rather fun, and instructive as I found myself writing about them. A very nice letter from Helen Moser my new pen friend in Germany, who has shown my poem about Heidegger to Dr Denker the head of the Heidegger archive close to where she works as a translator, and he liked it. At three, and having worked steadily since eight, the brain was empty. What better time then to zoom off to see Janet and Ken, via the Real Patisserie where I scored some incredibly delicious strawberry tarts. Long, wide ranging chat with Janet and Ken and Huss over aforementioned tarts and cups of tea. Home, and Lorraine was back home at a good time at last. We cooked and ate steamed veggies, fish and brown rice then as it was still light and the weather suddenly improving we sauntered around the park for an hour, watching a noisy jays versus rook war on the top of a large tree, and

Ensō craze

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A novelty horror-free day. Lorraine, poor thing, had to be up at six in what is turning out to be a bit of a week from hell work wise.  I was up and about before seven. Worked today on the business book, caught up with a little correspondence, including from Joan who had sent a note wishing Lorraine and I well. Writing to her made me long to visit Deviation Road again. It's like Tom Bombadil's house out there on Deviation Road in Ontario. Spoke to Janet and arranged a cup of tea with her and Ken tomorrow. They were pleased to hear about Lorraine and I. In writing the book I am having to read up a lot about Ensō , which I have decided is my latest craze. These are pictures of circles drawn in one stroke by calligraphers influenced by Zen. They require an empty mind, and how you ink your circle reflect the way you are tuned into the world. I love the idea of painting an Ensō every day, and have been thinking and writing about circles a good deal, even creating one of sorts th

Phew

After working as best I could, and watching a couple of lunchtime Fraziers, off to the hospital. After my exploratory op last month, the consultant told me that everything looked fine, and he'd put in an appointment for four months time. So when I got an 'urgent fast track' appointment I felt understandably apprehensive. I had managed my hypochondria exceptionally well (by my standards), but I felt very stressed walking up in the fine rain to the cloud-shrouded Gormenghast of the hospital on the hill. By the time I arrived, I convinced myself that I had one of about a dozen dire outcomes. Unfortunately my writing about healthcare has turned me from a hypochondriac to an expert hypochondriac.   The reception staff seemed to look sombrely at my file. The pleasant consultant's serious expression instantly confirmed the worst. He asked me how I'd been, and listened gravely to me telling him that everything seemed to be good. He told me that the results had all come

Old friends

Started my Monday thinking about Tuesday, where I have another visit to the hospital. Up before seven and off to work. Much happier journey this morning, and did my relaxation meditation, drank nice tea from my flask and listened to a Good Reads podcast. First Matie pleased with herself, having cycled virtuously into the office. I had a good day's work developing a couple of concept routes and writing copy to apparent satisfaction. I was sitting opposite Karam who had a small plastic spoon, The Spoon of Doom, which has a smiley face in blue or a scowly one in red depending on his mood, projecting from a blue-tac base from the top of his screen. Such is the stuff office life is made of. Curious attack of nerves presenting in a small and not at all scary meeting. After work a 25 minute walk from Tavistock Square to The Jerusalem Tavern in Farringdon. This is five minutes from where I did some work at the end of last year. Nice little faux-ancient pub, with delicious beer. Ther

At ease

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Hard to get out of bed this morning. First Matie, having been turfed from her hotel four-poster bed, came around and we set off to Southease where Kate had lived for a while. Hung about chatting in this beautiful little village, and nosing in the church and sitting on a bench by the village green hearing rooks chuckle and caw like a bevvy of cider drinkers in the trees, and watching the wind ripple a distant corn field. We encountered a slow worm that had recently dropped its tail on a path. Its defense was simply not to move until we were safely away. We walked around the quiet village, with its lovely old lichened buildings and crossed the little bridge over the river where the wind was surprisingly cold. After this mini-outing, we drove into Brighton for a roast lunch and a pint at the Signalman, before we had fond farewells with First Matie at the station. Lorraine and I then met Rosie in the Battle of Trafalgar, and sat in the back garden in the re-emerged sun. We crossed the

Back in the Basketmakers

Gorgeous day, sunny with a nice breeze. Dawn brought L and I a cup of tea in bed this morning, before she melting away like a little elf. I got up and made us breakfast in bed, feeling a tad jaded from last night's drinking. Another house viewing this afternoon, so we tidied up somewhat, and went to meet Betty who was passing through Brighton. She was a bit sorry for herself, having done a late show last night, got up at the crack of dawn to take a drama class in Redhill, back to Brighton to pick up her case, and then off to Kingston to do her five hour pub shift. For Lorraine and I had a classic Basketmakers session from tea time, people joining us to celebrate, via the medium of beer, our engagement. First Matie was down from London, treating herself to a hotel room with a four poster bed and walking around the North Laine looking chic in a red raincoat. Anton was free and joined us despite for altogether wrong headed reasons not being a lover of the Basketmakers, Matt and Jo

Wrong side of the bed

One of those days in which I simply got out of the wrong side of the bed. Ran around the house stressing as I searched for unfindable lost things. Lorraine up at the same time, quietly prepared a flask and some toast for me to eat on the run. Almost choked on the toast crossing the road, then to the station, where I had to buy at ticket, and bought the more expensive one by mistake. Onto the train and decided to listen to a meditation track to get my act together. Was just walking down the hypnotic stairs down into the lovely garden when the woman opposite started barking string of infuriating inanities (starting with'I'm on the train. On. The. Train.') for the next twenty minutes. Decided then to listen to Bob Marley only to discover that my new earphones had an infuriating hissiness in one of the ears. Poured out some tea from my flask, thinking lovingly of Lorraine and texting her, however the tea tasted strongly of raspberries left over from previous use. Into work, n

Reggae day

Managed to work on the business book for some time, which seemed the first time I've had a chance to focus on it properly. At least until Sonia came. Apparently Sonia is buying a new house and getting married in August. Long chat with Matty boy, who was in a German Taxi, who phoned to congratulate L and I, and then had a really interesting conversation about the theory of marketing. Winnowed out into the outside world later in the afternoon to buy salady things and a pair of sunglasses and look at Bob Marley CDs. I am in a full blown Bobathon at the moment. If it isn't Bob Marley I don't want to listen to it. Been listening to early recordings produced by Lee Scratch Perry. Rather splendid and undilutedly Jamaican. Took me back thirty years to when I was at the height of my Bob Marley craze. His death in May 1981 meant at least as much to me than that of John Lennon who died five months earlier. Late in the day I was invited to work up in Tavistock Square tomorrow. Sp

Twinkling by the newty pool

Had Lorraine's ring re-sized. It looked sparkly, especially in this weird sun stuff we are having. The jewellers looked hard at the diamond as if it were a fake and started talking happily about  a flaw deep in the diamond, till they realised they were looking at the setting. Also some palaver about the jeweller having to be asked if he would deign to resize it, given that it was not one of his rings. The prospect of his palm crossed with silver seemed to do the trick however. A good job was done, and I brought it home to Lorraine who was working at home this afternoon and she was soon twinkling it. Otherwise up early, and sent the website copy off, and it seemed to go down well. Otherwise being continually distracted by things like housecleaning, laundry and other time consuming stuff. More happily I managed to go to the gym, for a fairly decent workout. The combination of post-operation lunching and lounging, plus some dedicated knife and forkwork in Guernsey have rendered me p

A gnostic giraffe

Up with the larks this morning, or more accurately with the infernal Calliope who, because it is light, is waking me earlier each morning. A day writing the copy for an agency's own website. An interesting job, and a new client for me. The agency in question seem to have a clear idea of what they want to say, and I was instructed to dial down 'the agency bollocks'. Most refreshing. This took up the day, with pauses for conversation with the ever-bouncy Max about weddings and also about Skiddadle, a giraffe that little Elijah left here after a party once, and wasn't found until discovered recently wedged behind a wardrobe, near some Aramaic scrolls. I intend to send it back to Elijah with an account of its travels. Also talked to Bob, who was loping through Manchester on the way to train people in legal software. When Lorraine got home we stole away to the Shahi for a cheeky bite, as working up in the warm study on website copy had produced a keen need for a pint o

Chooones

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Up early and Lorraine off to work. Another amazing day of sunshine. I started to turn the tanker of my emotions away from holiday cheer to getting on with stuff.  However I told lots of friends about Lorraine and I, which meant I had texts or spoke to Anton, Carl, Sophie, Bob, First Matie and Matt -- plus putting a mention on Facebook has an amazing amount of response and good wishes. Walked Pat and Maureen to London Road station, they were being really nice and are evidently delighted by our decision. Then back home to phone the Pembertons who are, um, managing the property in the Twitten as the tenants had contacted me. Beth at home this morning before returning to Kingston to work. Betty very supportive of the whole marriage scheme. Over some lunchtime noodles watched some of The Mighty Boosh  on the gold sofa with her. This was a wonderfully surreal show, which makes me laugh out loud. In the evening cooked for Lorraine who is on one of her starving days. Walked her off to th

Happy Returns

Up early to pack, after a bad, possibly cheese-inflected night of nightmares. The first into the restaurant this morning for a hearty full Guernsey breakfast, and then a cab to the airport. Both of us feeling sad to leave after what had been such a wonderful break. This morning beautiful too, and the early flight back to England smooth. The weather not so good as in Guernsey with cotton wool clouds, but not bad at all compared to what it had been like lately. Through Gatwick, and to Brighton by train, playing this infernal iPhone and iPad game called Candy Crush which Lorraine is addicted to and has got me hooked too. Beth, who Lorraine had told our news, waiting for us at the station with a bunch of roses. Lorraine crying with happiness. I am very pleased that Beth is happy about it. Home by cab in time for lunch. Pat and Maureen had been looking after Lorraine announced our news and I am pleased to say they were both very happy too. I called Mum and told her too. Mum said that sh

A long walk in loveliness

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A kippery breakfast for me, and a haddocky one for Lorraine. After a slow start and, with a moment's sad pause, asking Lorraine to apply sunblock to the area of concern we ambled down towards Moulin Huet again, but turned onto the cliff path to Jerbourg. Another stunning, almost painfully beautiful day as we wended around the coastline looking down on the blue water and out at the cloudless sky. Once at Jerbourg we had some much-needed tea from the kiosk and then walked smartly to Icart on the roads, admiring the gardens en route. Arriving there an hour later (somewhat footsore) we met Richard and Jane, and Holly the dog . We went to the tea garden, for helpings of Guernsey gâche and carrot cake. The mad-hatterish theme maintained as we poured our teas only to discover that the pot contained a rogue peppermint bag too. A happy hour chatting with Richard and Jane in the sun. I wish this was something we could do once a week. Kindly dropped off back at La Barbarie, but the bar su