It was a dark and stormy night last night, and we went to sleep in a white world, but have woken up to a damp green world and a stormy Channel. The tide is in and I am watching wonderful waves surging towards me. The valiant dog walkers are out on the green as always. I still find myself thinking how much Shadow would have loved being here.
We went for a walk on the beach. Fantastic waves, with six brave surfers on them, and we were enclosed in mist with a watery sun coming through. I was wandering about lost in thought while Col took loads of atmospheric photos - which should appear on his blog later - and also I had to return a lost ball to a dog - when suddenly I seemed to hear a tiny voice - with a very charming French accent.
"Hello young miss" it said, " I haven't seen you out with your father for a while."
"Oh Maurice" I said (for it was he), "I'm afraid you've made a mistake. That isn't my father, its my husband!"
"No!" said the little clammy voice, with its charming accent. "What a cradle snatcher!".
"Oh, indeed no," I said, all of a flutter, "In fact I am slightly older than he is."
"Impossible my dear. I simply can't believe it."
I rushed off to tell Captain Butterfly that I had finally spoken to Maurice and what he had said.
"He shoulda gone to Specsavers", was his only comment, as he clicked away.