|High Tide||03:03 (2.40m)|
|Low Tide||09:39 (0.80m)|
|High Tide||16:35 (2.10m)|
|Low Tide||21:17 (1.10m)|
Sea conditions: shallow with a few small, choppy waves
Weather: grey with promise - some blue sly heading our way
Joined by: The Constable
Topics of conversation:
Apologies to The Constable, who had arrived at our normal time to swim, but we hadn't told him that we'd given ourselves a 30 minute lie in... Sorry again. DK deserved a lie in as he'd been playing last night and hadn't gone home till 3, he has such stamina that he only needed an extra 30 mins you see.
On the other hand I'd been lying on the sofa wrapped in a blanket with Beechams powders all evening and had only known that it was approaching midnight because I'd been prodded regularly and given a countdown. I've been fighting off the thing everyone has had (sore throat, coughing all night, aches, glands like golf balls and a particularly bad temper thrown in for good measure) and this was probably my most abstemious New Year's Eve in 15 years: 3 Beechams and a very lovely Whisky at midnight for luck. I'd managed to get some cooking done for today's lunch as a result of being too pony to go out, but the catalan orange caramel had suffered too - wrong texture. Had it not been for the flashes and bangs through the skylights I'd have been asleep by 10pm but a swim on New Year's Day was still essential this morning and I can report that it certainly did some temporary good.
Fireworks were high on the agenda this morning, the village has gone firework mad and it had been rather like being in London, with the first ones starting as the sun went down and the final ones finishing with such force at 12.15 that we had to check that there wasn't a mushroom cloud over the village. The dogs were terrified. DK and Legs have had recurring problems with noisy neighbours and last year said neighbours were asked not to let fireworks off as close as they had to the horses - they had been badly spooked - but took no notice. Poor Mabel tried to tunnel under the TV, they were so close. A row ensued and although I wouldn't dream of going into details, Legs was accused of being "unhinged", I couldn't resist the urge to call the two of them "Unhinged and Bracket" for the day.
The Constable had been out of the village for a bash and had returned at around 3am also. As he turned off the main road, around 4 miles from the village he had been spooked by a ghostly figure at the junction. I didn't like to tell him that there is a tale of a hanging at that junction, which has given rise to 'sightings' of horseless carriages and other spooky goings on, and it soon became clear that this apparition had been none other than Ratty, The Pirate's no.2 son, who had been to a party another 4 miles away and was wending his weary way home. The Constable gave him a lift of course. He has a nose for finding help when in dire need, he was last seen in the pub on Christmas Eve asking the bar staff what he could get for £1.40 - a bag of crisps was about it, but he was standing next to Mertz when he said it and was soon happily downing a pint of some obscure beer or other.
We are sending good wishes and love to The Pirate and The Pirate's Wife, who have been at the bedside of a very dear friend since boxing day. It must be a very sad and painful way to start the New Year.
|From White Bridge 28th|
As we were getting ready to go a lovely couple approached us and asked "Is this a New Year tradition in this village?" we were slightly perplexed for a moment and then DK got the gist and said "NO, it's a daily one!"