Boules to it

St Helier harbour blockaded by French fishing boats yesterday. Two royal navy ships dispatched to keep an eye on things. Today the situation was calmer but the underlying problems remain. Another Brexit win. 

A busy start, swallowing a few frogs, tidying up before Sonia came,  subscribing to some poetry magazines and, inspired by excellent poets, having a bit of a bash at my own stuff.  

Noon, and I walked over to Anton's place and we sauntered down to the seaside at Hove and played some boules. We got there early so we went unjostled by people indulging in bouts of expressive gallic shrugging and saying things like bof etc. We both really enjoyed the games, looking out at the seaside in the bright sun. Blue and cold today.

Walked back up to Anton's and sat in the back garden with a couple of cold beers talking about geopolitics, listening to Stiff Little Fingers and XTC, and reminiscing about an exceedingly lively trip we once made to Manchester.

Then I walked home across Preston Park home. Lorraine had a horrid end to the work week, unfortunately.  We went for a walk and chatted, and then I picked up a bag of stuff from Red Chillies and we ate this, and then watched Brooklyn 99 for a bit before an early night. My iPhone said I had walked seven miles today, which was decent. 

Below Anton et boules.