A cheery Anton, and unhelpful assumptions

A bit of freshness in the air in the morning, thanks to being near the sea. Did business admin first thing. Then wasted time running about to local shops to get coins so that I could wash a quilt in the big washer of the local launderette. Obtaining actual cash these days is increasingly difficult. 

A national emergency heat red alert for next week, with temperatures set to set an English record topping 40℃. Alarming in all kinds of ways. It will be Lorraine's last week, but it wouldn't be her last week without a national crisis to deal with. The infrastructure not designed to deal with this in the UK. I remember going to Greece once and arriving when it was 40℃, and that felt really hot. Even the locals were flaking out. But this is Blighty. In Chad it was 49℃ there, but it was such dry heat that it seemed okay. 

Wrote the first draft of a poem this afternoon. Booked for next Monday for an additional day on the job Keith and I have been doing.

Walked to Anton's house in my new sandals. Crossing the park, I saw a red car driving across the grass. Only then did I notice a sudden township of traveller's white caravans in the lower part of the park. Just the thing to add to the tinderbox of the next few days. 

As I was nearing Anton's house I passed a bloke on the street without any thought. A scrawny woman began shouting after him. The bloke stopped confused, as asked if he had dropped something. The woman said no... I mooched on then I heard him remonstrating. You see a black person and you think they've got drugs on them? It was outrageous. But then I am a hypocrite. Only a few minutes earlier, my heart had sunk seeing travellers illegally camping in the park and I had made assumptions about what they would get up to.

Had a nice evening with a cheerful Anton. Sat in his garden with a cold beer and heard about his walking holiday doing part of the Camino trail in northern Spain. He said it was almost a British landscape. Repaired downstairs and ate some pizza, and chatted with Anne, and saw Oscar who had his prom night, and returned home in the sunshine of the morning.

Anton and I slipped out for a beer in The Crescent and another in The French Horn for further discussions, and then I walked home as it was beginning to get dusky. Crossed the park and the same red car was driving around on the grass of the park. 

Lorraine already in bed, and I soon joined her.  She has four days left working with children. The idea of stopping now making her feel a bit strange. It's a right old mix of emotions. 

Below a red car driving about in the park.