Having spent 20 minutes typing today’s blog, I discovered it had not saved. Lost. Gone. I had spent ages battling to download photos. What a pain. It also showed yesterday’s was still in draft form which is a great big porky pie.
So I shall begin again, this Sunday evening, as I listen to ‘There’s a time for us ‘ and Romeo and Juliet spoken over this WSS song. And ballet. This song always brings tears. Bucket loads. It’s the Coronation Concert. T is absolutely loving it. But you can keep Lionel Ritchie.
Last night was a bit interrupted due to the litre of sparkling water I downed with our meal. I’ve had another tonight so I expect a repeat.
Today dawned dull but stayed dry. We breakfasted as usual and H was expectant about her breakfast sausage and a few extra trimmings.
We eventually got ourselves out and about to Dunster Beach for a walk and a crap (Heidi) .
It was to be one of those days where nowhere we went suited T and I found it quite exhausting going from place to place when I just wanted to park my arse on a chair on some sand and chill out. But it was not to be.
After our time at Dunster, we went to Watchet Harbor which is old and scenic. Today the tide was out and the boats appeared to be sitting in Chocolate Mousse. There was a Sunday Market in full swing- a mixture of crafts, foods and tat.
H has totally ignored the expensive home cooked dog treats which I bought her.
Doggy treats
Following Watchet, we were heading for Porlock but I knew my eyes were heavy, and the lanes narrow and winding, so we visited old haunts in Minehead instead. Until T got bored, yet again.
Now … To the strains of ( You’ll never Walk Alone – Terfel and Bocelli – and McGeorge – Liverpool anthem- memories of Captain Tom too ) More tearful emotion too.
(Please take Lionel Ritchie far far away.)
A final visit was to Blue Anchor where the sun almost shone and T downed yet another coffee. We contemplated another beach walk but I may have mentioned fatigue.
Back at the hotel…
I have now found a special and easy place for H to do her wees. Up our little alleyway and into the street to a damp smelly corner. It never fails to work for H.
I don’t ‘get’ Lionel Ritchie – he seems boring and loud.
Back to the afternoon where those heavy eyes finally yielded to gravity. A timed session because I set an alarm. No more of these 90 minute dozes.
Yippee! Lionel has been gagged. T is really loving this concert.
We ate an early evening meal – reduced in quantity due to our overeating over recent days.
Pics from the other day … my one moan about this hotel is poor internet and phone signal. My photos are difficult to download. I struggled in first version of blog which mysteriously disappeared and am still struggling.
Jesus Christ Superstar briefly playing.
T has become a fan of Katy Perry and Take That. Oh Gary Barlow – thinking woman’s crumpet. I’ve had to move on from Bill Turnbull because he has passed through those pearly gates. I’m not really 73 ++.
Bed beckoned once the concert was over. It was quite moving.
This morning – Monday, another Bank holiday, should be ashamed of itself. It’s dull and wet. H was quick to use her special smelly up the road toilet.
Thought for the Day
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