Eroticdreambattle

I saw Orion last night- for the first time this winter. It's not that I haven't been looking, it's that whenever I have looked there have been clouds in the way.

My mother complained this morning about the sun getting in her eyes through an east facing window- and I had to draw the curtains against it. This is another first: mornings this winter have been as cloudy as the nights.

I suppose all this relates to the high temperatures we've been suffering/enjoying. Records have been broken for the warmest December night and the warmest December day.

We were eating a Christmas Dinner in the Beachside Restaurant of the Cooden Beach Hotel (once patronised by HRH The Queen Mother, Sir Winston Churchill and the Duke and Duchess of Windsor- probably not all at the same time) when word came through that the house sale was completed and the money winging its way to our bank.

Nice meal. More expensive than usual, but why not- in the circumstances?

We were seated in a corner of the room with a view out across the bay. The day had started out fine, but now the wind was rising, the waves creaming in, the odd gob of sleet flying past the window. In the centre of the room a party of old people was having a celebration meal complete with party hats. "Wig," said Ailz quietly, referring to a man who had just gone off to the gents. She and I like spotting wigs. I studied him closely when he returned. "You're right," I said. "Cut too straight across the back of the neck."

It was blowing up a storm by the time we left the hotel. "You know how I said I was going to have a stroll on the beach?" I said. "Well, I'm not any longer."