I’ts a funny thing, reading...

when you think about it? 

A mystery, a skill which if you don’t master when young gets increasingly difficult.

Old couples come to the coast in the car, park overlooking the sea, eat their picnic, admire the view,  without a thought of getting out and having a walk.  They sit and read, him the Sun and her maybe a magazine or puzzle book.  After an hour or two they drive home. 

‘What a lovely day we’ve had at the seaside!’ they tell their friends on their return.

Men are seen trogging out each and every morning for their paper, a Woman’s Own for the missus and maybe a box of Fishermen’s Friends to clear the old tubes.  Back home they sit and read the newspaper from cover to cover, secure in the knowledge they have had their exercise for the day.

The reading of signs is another difficulty especially as the message is telling you something you would really rather not know!

The other evening we went to bed to the view of a camper van parked outside, right beside the no overnight parking of vans sign. Our view is we are fortunate to live in such a wonderful place so just let sleeping dogs lie.  About an hour later we were woken up by a loud knocking obviously on the side of the van.  After a concerted series of knockings the van roared away.

Whether it was the police or one of our neighbours we don’t know.  We have been advised by a guy a few doors down to park our car opposite to save our view being obscured.  Seems a bit churlish when we live here all year: although getting in from yoga at 10 am this morning to this parked

 smack outside, I am beginning to think it’s not such a bad idea? 

What a cat!