|Low Tide||03:20 (0.60m)|
|High Tide||09:54 (2.40m)|
|Low Tide||15:42 (0.80m)|
|High Tide||21:56 (2.40m)|
Sea conditions: calm
Weather: foul - pouring with rain, cold (dropped to 5)
Joined by: just DK, The Poet and me today
Topics of conversation:
Where was everyone? To be fair The Pirate's Wife had texted first thing to say that The Pirate's cold had taken hold and he was feeling lousy and The L.E. had warned us that if the weather was foul she wouldn't come, Sara doesn't come when it's raining either so it was just the mad eccentrics. The rain was cold, hard and it was actually better being in the sea as the raindrops were piercing. We opened up the huts so that we could change in there and leave the dogs in the dry, although Jess was determined to make sure The Poet was safe and came down with us. As we went running in (the running in is worth mentioning as it doesn't happen often) I spotted a hunched figure on the beach, leaning against the rain - The Artist! She had braved the elements for a walk, but sensibly was not coming in, she needs to look after herself and keep safe.
Regardless of the cold, the rain and the wind we had a good swim, staying in perhaps a little longer than we would have if it had been nicer out and we joked and larked about regardless. The law of sod dictated that just as we were getting dried off the rain began to ease, and by the time we were dressed it had stopped altogether. My hands were so cold that I couldn't do up the shutters and DK commented that it's almost back to hand warmer weather. I was too cold to run, even though I have some aloe heat lotion to rub on my hamstrings so that we don't have a repeat of last year. There had been a wonderful rainbow at about 6.30 this morning, and as I took the dogs out I'd manoeuvred myself on the grazing fields so that one end finished in my garden - I could do with a pot of gold.
DK had had a round of golf yesterday and got soaked to the skin, fortunately Legs had planned ahead and brought him dry trousers as they had been out for and early supper with friends straight after the game. They had had a lovely evening, the wife is s Norwegian garden designer and the husband is, amongst many other things, creator of Rutland Weekend Television and a Rutle. Having spent my formative years in Rutland he's a bit of a hero and I had forgotten all about the Rutles so I've just spent 15 minutes reminiscing over my porridge: Rutles compilation
The Pirate had sent me this image yesterday saying he thought that perhaps the boys needed new outfits, I'm quite relieved they hadn't splashed out.