Sinking in shingle

A much enjoyed day at home. Lorraine snuffling with a cold by the end of the day, and me feeling sore-throaty again. Gah. January is doing its best to be hard to like. I know it is mad to personify a month. We'd plans to see Rosie and Innis today, but they had to cancel, which turned out to be lucky for us. 

Spoke to Mum early on. She also went next door to Wynford's in the evening. He sent me a very kind text. He is a thoroughly good man.

I went for a short walk by the sea. There was supposed to be a seaside run today, but the storms have forced all the pebbles inland over the runners' route, so it had to be cancelled. I always like the blurring of outlines you get with snow, and here the pebbles did the same thing. Wind from the east, although my weather app said it was from the south, numbed my face. Morrisons. Bought some sacrilegious hot cross buns, which went down well with Lorraine on the gold sofa.

A fisherman's pie tonight and then we watched a decent if sad documentary on channel 4 about David Bowie, Bowie: The Final Act.

Below benches sinking in shingle.