I don't pop my cork for every man I see

Had a lovely weekend down on the coast. The sun kept its grip on the situation and my face is ruby red from the wind blast it received on the beach yesterday. I saw a walnut on a walnut tree which was a first, it was growing in Rye which is rapidly turning into my favourite place at the moment. I bought a gravy/fat seperator from a beautiful kitchenware shop there which was rather ritzy with two floors.

I usually judge towns by wether they have a Woolworths or not and Rye is no exception. Rye has a rather dinky one nestled in its ancient high street.

The weeks now seem stuffed with social engagements and this that and the other and I now feel rather rushed off my feet and in need of a pocket diary - one with a whole week over two pages with about an inch to scribble in each day. I can see the waitress taking the dessert plates of this year away and coming back to see if coffee is required. It's been a fabulous year and I can see me leaving a whopping tip.