The estuary wilds reeked of shit early on Saturday morning. I thought that it was a cat thing going off in the garden at first.
But then we cycled off along the muddy banks of the Colne and yep - the whole place had an unpleasant aroma.
The country living coin was flipped a little further along down the Trail. I can just about take the toilet stench, if it means having the pleasure of a cormorant keeping watch down by the Hythe.
What a most splendid bird.
We arrived in good time for the Colchester Park Run. Castle Park was looking stunning.
I’ve not been pounding the mean streets of CO7 / SW8 since a slight injury back in the beauty of Brockwell a fortnight ago. The aim for this morning was to simply complete the Castle Park 5km.
Anna impressed with her dedication to elite athleticism by necking a Double Decker on the start line.
Way to go, girl.
I took it easy on the first circuit, pace making for one of the top female runners. The calf felt fine, and so I stepped up the pace for the final 2km.
A flat-footed beast was plodding behind us, breathing down our path with a heavy foot.
I upped the pace, and managed to drag along the female runner for the ride. I delivered her home with a PB, and second place in the race (that’s not a race…)
Golf balls were then bought in Sunny Colch.
Oh dear.
My Transpontine friends did warn me that this might happen.
We stopped off at the pool on the bicycle ride back to base. I swam parallel with Anna, who claimed that she was lacking her water wings.
She managed to gain two lengths on me as we both completed a 40 length splash.
The reverse ride along the Trail was GLORIOUS. The late September sunshine gave a midday light show peeping through the wooded marshland canopy.
I picked up the Jonathan Wilson Clough biog from the library. The Essex service is superb: I can search and order a book online, and then a text drops the next day saying that it has arrived.
A bit of luncheon baking was then the recipe required to avoid the bloody Labour leadership contest crap.
And then the remainder of Saturday was all about finding a couple of new fury friends.
We boarded the pussy wagon train out to Alresford to keep an appointment with a lovely lady who takes in kittens in need of re-homing.
It has been a painful month or so for Anna and I. Other folk experience far more life-changing challenges. But we underestimated the impact of saying goodbye to Murphie.
We did agree to wait until the New Year before even thinking of finding a new friend. But we both felt ready.
The beauty contest of selecting some new friends was something that we tried to avoid. But as soon as I saw a pair of eight week old sisters, I knew that I wanted to share my home with them.
Thankfully they felt similar, as they came out to say hello to us, whilst other kittens were a little more reserved.
Their brother has already been re-homed; we had a sadness in leaving a final sister behind. We were told that she was likely to find a home later in the day.
And so HELLOOO to Daisy and Dotty.
These names *may* change.
We spent early Saturday evening getting to know our new feline friends, and taking in some of their little quirks.
It’s probably a little too early in the settling in process to start flashing a camera in their little faces.
But yeah. It feels like a sense of loss has started to be healed.
A run of work shifts concluded Saturday. We’ve got double bubble now for cat food. That won’t come cheap.