Greetings from the seaside. A blanket of fog enveloped east Kent as I drove up the motorway slipway and arrived in Hythe. Despite that I made good progress and it only took me 1 hour 45 minutes. Looking at how the tunnel was going the other way I'm glad I was headed south and not back home to the north.
I have escaped the world that is work and can now focus on recuperating and chilling. My anxiety is at bay thank goodness. My wait for the boiler man on Tuesday was not in vain. He was very friendly and explained a lot. Over the years in that flat many have come to look and all give me different explanations as to what is wrong. This man was no different. He assured me after doing some things it was fine yet two days later it is once again losing pressure. I'm not too concerned at this stage but I just wish they would rip the whole thing out and start again.
Away from tedious domestic problems I have my week in Hythe ahead of me. The first person I saw on arrival was not exactly who I would have wanted to see but was a reminder that during my dark times in the 1990s many others didn't get out and still roam the streets aimlessly guzzling the cheapest coffee they can find and chain smoking roll ups. I did that once.
Have I moved on that far? I hope so although on the days when the darkness once again threatens me I have my doubts.
Dad still has his lingering cold and what looks like a chest infection. GP told him to try antibiotics but he's not keen. Let's hope it lifts before the big day.
Partridge is on the menu tonight. I will roast a brace I spotted in the window of the butcher stuffed with bay and thyme. Stupidly I forgot to buy bacon to wrap it but we will survive. Tomorrow we food shop in earnest. I have completed my Christmas shopping and now look ahead with not a lot of enthusiasm to wrapping, a task I detest and am singularly bad at.
See you some time in the next few days.
I Heard a Voice.
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