Here we go again, computer to hand, mused switched on. The pebbles caught my attention. Took me to a beach near the mouth of the Sid.
I relax watching the ocean, as the rigging from sailing boats rattles in the breeze. Sam tries to chase seagulls, scattering pebbles left and right. Later we will walk the Undercliff, to Lyme Regis. So sleep will come easily tonight. But first I will dine well. Joan and Philip will see to that. The conversation will flow. No masks will be required. Yes 1991 was a vintage year.