1. We come over the top of the links, and there's the sea sparkling before us.
2. Among the beiges and browns of sand and pebbles, the spiky blue of sea holly.
3. This town rings a curfew bell at 8pm. This evening, we are coming home from dinner by the river, and it feels about right, with night falling and lights coming on.
1. We love our free festival of music, Local and Live, but like it best if we do just a couple of hours sitting in the sun with a pint and our friends. I tune in to the live radio when we get home, though.
2. We come home to a kitchen full of hand-drawn lemonade stand marketing material -- vintage pink candy stripes and pale yellow felt-tip.
3. I remember that one of my Oxfam purchases was a Ben Aaronovich novella, which is just right for the evening's entertainment.
1. The hotel staff are very welcoming -- the chamber maids sing about their work, and have a 'good morning' for me when I pass them in the corridors; and at breakfast the server teases my male colleagues, which they absolutely love.
2. Quite by chance I arrive just at the right time to see the two-storey tall mechanical bull come to life. Its eyes roll and flash and it shakes its head and tail.
3. When I get back in, no one is home except Alec. He comes out of his room and squeezes me in a big hug.
1. Between songs, someone gets up and our friend pats the space next to her. I take the spot, enjoying the smell of hay, as well as the music and the company.
2. We arrive towards the end of the market, and the rum distiller has a very tired face -- but he still summons all of his enthusiasm and passion to tell us why his local product (made with smoky woodchips, with all the sugar turned to alcohol) is better than the alternatives we could buy in the supermarket.
3. With a large knife, chopping herbs from the garden into damp green fragments.
1. Nick and I take a box of bric-a-brac to a charity shop; buy some biscuits and a few birthday cards; and post a letter. Either of us could have done these errands -- but it's more fun to do them together.
2. The sound of Alec vacuuming the stairs -- dust-free for another week.
3. It is growing dark, and drizzling slightly, but this is the first time I've had to do my bit of gardening for the day. There is just time to do tomato admin, deadhead the geraniums and relocate a chicken nugget-sized orange slug. I also note that someone must have kindly watered the front garden while we were away, as the full watering cans I left out are empty.
1. I wake well before dawn and as a consequence see some meteors streaking across the celestial rectangle of the bathroom skylight.
2. I take a last long look out across Rosey's garden at the valley and the fells beyond. The sun is burning off the last of the mist.
3. Our train journey south is not eventful. Lancaster-Preston-Wigan-Northwestern vanish in a haze of E.F. Benson and a coronation chicken sandwich.
1. The ragweed is getting stripped by black and orange striped cinnabar caterpillars.
2. Alec comes round and vacuums the stairs.
3. The rain gets to us. We run round closing all the windows, and then open them again because it's still warm and muggy. At last, we settle by the open front window to feel the cooling air while we listen to the rain, the thunder and the radio.
1. Even up here, can smell someone else watering their garden.
2. Alec occasionally appears wanting to know if he can help.
3. Sitting on the sofa painting Bettany's toenails. It's the first time today that I've felt as if I'm where I'm meant to be.