Counting the days

Counting down the days now till I return to Brighton. As Lorraine says, one thing about this little sojourn in Hayward's Heath is to remind us of how much we like living in Brighton. I will miss one of our Haywards Heath neighbours, Gary, who has Down's Syndrome. Most days he straps on his headphones, sparks up his Karaoke machine to sing with unrestrained gusto and volume in the room next to the one I've been working in. I find this immensely cheering, and makes me feel that all's right with the world. It's hard to work out most of the tunes, but his version of Kylie's Can't get you out of my head will live with me for some time. We also hear him at the weekend when we are lazing in bed. When we met him the other week, at the drinks after Jo's wedding, he absolutely loved Jo and followed her around hugging her.

Finally got some post today. The new owners of The Old Church Hall sent through an enormous envelope full of stuff, bless 'em. And at last the mail forwarding has kicked in. A haul of important stuff, including two credit cards. Now I have to re-redirect the mail, God only knows what new havoc that will wreak.

Otherwise little or no overlap in the Venn diagram where Stuff to do circle barely touches The enthusiasm to do stuff circle. A random walk this afternoon to a nearby housing estate Southdowns Park converted from a former mental hospital. A strange, unwelcoming place, with all the roads marked as private, and I felt like someone might ask me what I was doing there. I guessed it had been a mental hospital before Lorraine told me it had been. Something about the layout or the atmosphere.

Lorraine late teaching Governors, read more of the Knausgaard book, which I am still enjoying, and then cooked and administered wine when she eventually returned.