Sunday

The Ashes breakfast was interrupted with a text conversation with Anna about planning back in South London.

It was probably for the best.

A pretty major planning application back in SW8 is going to shape how the early part of 2018 pans out for us.

Back in the estuary wilds and the weather forecast dominated my day.

I re-scheduled my plan of attack to try and complete various tasks ahead of the expected downpour.

This meant an early morning run, rather than a luncheon swim.

It wasn’t that early by the time I had cleared up the mess of Dotty and the baby bird that she half-killed in the utility room.

Naughty Dotty.

I though that the little feathery fella was out for the count. His body was still moving as I grappled it out of the jaws of Dotty.

I took him in my hand to the ‘nature garden’ of a neighbour.

I was halfway round my run when I remembered that the nature garden is the happy hunting ground for Dotty.

The run was decent, if a little icy.

I’m pleased that I have managed to put in place a route that clocks in at exactly 10km.

A major hack then took place in the garden.

The aim was to tackle the wisteria. But I got a little carried away and hacked out anything that was looking like it had lost the will to live – which happened to be most of the garden.

I more or less finished as the rain started to settle.

The West Brom Vs Man Utd match kept my interest.

I then hooked up with Disco Darryl to record Town Hall Tapes.

We are one-take wonders.

You create, then you move on.

I had a random work shift, followed by some fiddly tech bobbins with my old iMac. It was something of a relief when it booted up sonce again.

#SPOTY wasn’t met with the same interest of years gone by.

I miss the days of wobbly sets at TV Centre, and HILARIOUS competitions involving non-footballing folk taking penalties against Peter Shilton.

Hey hoe.

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