End of the Old

Salisbury Road a hive of industry. Editing for seven hours. Cheerlessly re-listening to one of my poorest interviews. Not my guest's fault however.  

Meanwhile Amanda did her last day of painting the spare room, in chestnut mushroomy taupe which will look very nice with the Inca Gold carpet. Sylwia cheerily cleaning this morning. 

I had intended to go to the gym or a long walk, but I just wanted to finish the edit, which I did at 5:15pm.  Lorraine very busy today, showering Pat this morning, then delivering Story Time at the library and later taking Pat to see Cóilín the nice dentist. 

I spoke to Mum and we were really pleased that Toby had not travelled today. A huge fire disabled all the electricity, causing disruption to a thousand flights.

I was keen to get out and drink beer. Lorraine got home just in time for us to go to the pub for the usual Friday Night shenanigans in the Old Boot Inn with assorted 're-booters'. Another tableful, and a new woman called Andy, along with Adele and Patrick, Delores, Matthew, and Helen and Andy. Everyone chatting lots. Strapped on the nosebag. I ordered a pint of mother in law for Lorraine and I, but the Old is gone now, till Autumn. Hurrah for the golden beers of summer.

On the way home we were stopped by a small and unsteady teenager holding a glass of some spirit near Seaford Station. He had a slightly embarrassed mate with him. He said to me, 'Do you like immigrants?' I told him I loved immigrants, which discombobulated him a bit. He said something like they take all our jobs. He then asked what football team I like. He mooched off amiably enough. Signs of the rise of the right, the Reform party in the UK, polluting the minds of silly kids throughs social media and so on.