Good Night, Irene

 It's warming up. I've stopped wearing fingerless gloves and a scarf indoors

We met Mike and Su and Sej at the Nevill Crest and Gun at Eridge- which is close to being halfway between Greenwich and Eastbourne. Sej thought it was a great game to gather up handfuls of gravel from the pub car park and post them down a grid. he was so happy we didn't exactly discourage him and just hoped no-one was watching.

He was going on about Irene. "Who is this Irene he is so besotted with?" I wondered. Eventually it was explained to me he was actually saying "Ice cream".

When it came to the ice cream course he wound up eating a good half of my raspberry sorbet.

The Nevill Crest and Gun is in my top ten of great names for pubs- or would be if I had one. The Nevills were/are the big landowners in those parts- and the gun references the fact that the Kent and Sussex Weald was a centre of of the late mediaeval/early renaissance arms industry. Weald=forest=charcoal=founderies=guns. I read that there was one particular gun they used to keep in Eridge and haul out and fire on public holidays. I don't see why this wouldn't be true. 

Bloody Mary

Mary was photographing flowers for a school project. We pointed her at the daffodils. There are five of them now.

We went to the oriental buffet. Now I'm no longer pretending to be a vegan I can do more than look wistfullly at the salt and pepper prawns.

One of the charity shops we went into had a recipe for a Bloody Mary printed on canvas, mounted on wooden stretchers for hanging on your kitchen wall. They wanted £2.00 for it, so how could I resist? I bought it and gave it to Mary. Ha!


(This entry is out of sequence, not that it matters. I should have posted it yesterday, but forgot to carry it across from LJ.)