|High Tide||04:32 (2.40m)|
|Low Tide||11:25 (0.80m)|
|High Tide||18:20 (2.30m)|
|Low Tide||23:46 (1.30m)|
Sea conditions: ROUGH and full of flotsam and jetsam
Sea temperature: 36 degrees, DK's thermometer had jammed.... the new one has arrived but it was too rough to take it in
Weather: Very warm for November but blowing a very strong wind and raining hard
Topics of conversation from the last couple of days:
Mainly Mabel - she has quite an impact on the group as she is so very entertaining. She has decided that Bosco is her very own play thing and tries to climb onto his back, whilst fighting him for the ball. He is probably 50 times bigger than her, her entire body is just bigger than his head - which is a good thing as you're not supposed to eat anything bigger than your head. Willow is terrified of her and is slowly edging closer, she even sniffed her tail, hopefully they'll find their level soon and Mabel will learn that dogs stay on the beach then Legs won't have to accompany her every morning. It's a bit scary to think that she could just follow DK into the sea.
Being back - I'm not quite sure how to describe the joy of immersing yourself in the cold sea, in November, having been landlocked for 5 days. There is coming home and then there's this. Even though the walk was a long one on my first day back, wading through thigh high water to get to enough depth to swim, I wasn't in any rush to dive in. Allowing the sea to take you into it's waves at its pace is part of the pleasure. The Pirate was making the most of his last swim for a few days as he's off, but he was sensible about not going in too far. He's hoping to swim in a river where he is going.
Potatoes and their hallucinogenic powers. The Pirate said that Walter Raleigh would not have been able to get them past health and safety committees if he had tried to introduce them in this century. The Viking had a very nasty experience with an uncooked one at college, when he thought his belly was a VW Beetle.
Westonbirt Arboretum, which Mertz and I had visited the previous week. The trees were spectacular and fiery, and we'd had a great experience as the weather had been perfect too. DK and legs know New England well (Legs being from that part of the world originally) and we discussed the 'fall' there, I've made Legs promise to help me plan a trip. We decided it could be a John Irving themed journey although I'd hope not to have too many Irvingesque experiences of my own.
My pathetic, but crafty dogs were really unimpressed by the weather, they hate rain and wind. Just as I was about to get into the sea today I looked round and they had gone. DK whistled his loud whistle but they didn't come so I trudged up to the dunes and there they were, hiding in a dip, sheltered from the wind and rain by marron grass. We need a beach hut...