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I spent most of the day grappling with long-distance legal professionals over a small remortgage. I cannot summon the energy to detail this, but it has been going on for weeks and has only been necessary because I am too old to secure a mortgage from my bank. I have grown heartily sick of prevaricating, incompetent, and mendacious professionals who are happy to take your money while providing a useless service.
It is thirty years since I last negotiated such a loan. In those days you could walk to an office, speak to a person, and trust that what you were promised would be done. I don’t think I need tell anyone how it is now, in our progressive, unprincipled, digital age.
Jackie spent much of the day in the garden where she reshaped and added plants to the Dragon Bed section beside the greenhouse.
By 4.30 p.m., for the sake of my sanity, I was desperately in need of a ride in a motor car. Jackie happily obliged.
We began with a look at the sea at Barton. One member of a group on the beach seemed to have brought along a tent;
another man played with his dog;
a couple sat together on a bench;
one with a golden retriever, kept to the path along the clifftop.
Whenever a group of dog walkers meet, they swap engaging stories about their pets. Sometimes the animals are not so friendly. Lily was in trouble. She was admonished as being very naughty for nipping one of the others.
Cliffs are still crumbling.
Only the crows (if they are rooks forgive me – I don’t know the difference)
can truly feel safe on them.
As if to prove this statement, one of these took off, and clung precariously to the loose pebbles.
Down below a jogger on the beach path
checked her watch without breaking her stride.
As we travelled inland, ponies periodically exercised their right to ownership of the roads.
Sunset smiled over Roger Penny Way on our return.
Later, The Raj in Old Milton provided our takeaway meal with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the malbec.