Nice as pie

Up to buy breakfast, was asked what I thought about Jeremy Corbyn by the man in the corner shop, looking up from the Daily Mail.  The owner clearly thought Corbyn was a lunatic. Then a morning of sorting stuff out with Lorraine and Betty and going to Sainsburys and so on. We borrowed Jenny next door's lawn mower, and I cut our patch of grass which was thick and luxuriant.

In the afternoon Anton and Anne came round, Anton armed with an apple and blackberry pie, made from the blackberries we'd found yesterday. It was delicious, as was the roast pork Lorraine made. All of us rather gorged on things, including cheeses afterwards. Anton very animated about politics this afternoon. Anne is a royalist, right winger which Anton finds difficult to accommodate with amusing results.

Evening spent digesting foods, and getting ready for the week ahead. Watched a traumatising Scandinavian noir series called Beck, featuring people being buried alive in coffins by a psycho. Lorraine and I leaping in the gold sofa. Had a chat with Toby last thing, now safely home in Toronto with Romy and Meatball the cat, back home after all her travels.

Below: Anton's exemplary and first-ever apple and blackberry pie.