Weird curry

Cheery day. Lorraine and I went off shopping this morning. In the market we bought some iron wall hooks in the shape of hearts, and I bought a bottle of locally produced sloe gin. We nosed in a print shop, and I went to collected new reading glasses to replace the ones I left in the back of a Corfiot taxi, while Lorraine had the arms on her specs tightened. Then on impulse into the Library to join up -- I had no ID so will need to return. Then into the dry cleaner's for Lorraine to continue her charm offensive. 

In the evening Lorraine and I took ourselves off for a six o'clock nose bag at the Moon of India, apparently Seaford's oldest curry house. Initial impressions were favourable. I ordered a Gujarati chicken, a hot, sour and spicy village dish apparently. Very sugary unfortunately, and Lorraine's chicken rogan was sweet too. which was weird. Nevertheless sauntered home having had a good time. After a bit I felt extremely dehydrated with a racing pulse, and drank pint after pint of water all evening and through the night till I felt better. Perhaps all the sugar had masked lots of salt. All a bit strange.

An early night, after a happy day.