Flete Estate pt 2 pt. Most gorgeous weather imaginable. Shorts on for first time since Oct. Wonderful. Made it by 1110 and saw OFT already in position, directing taffic, his gilet jaune perched on his burgeoning paunch. Bald head sweating in the sun. God he is a disgusting spectacle.
He was already looking faintly tetchy as he waved cars and lorries in and only been on duty since 1045. Why? This is because OFT will never, ever do anything that might help others without feeling in some way, resentful.
If asked to help in any way for anything to do with the common good (and he will only accept if request issued by a person socially superior or who might have, in some way, an advantage to bestow) he will always say, “I got roped in to…”
This from a man professing to be a Christian who went to one hour of devotions yesterday, “Just to reflect”. As my Mother used to say, “Christians (so called) are some of the unkindest if not cruelllest people on earth.” The older I get the more I wonder if she was not right.
After that, parked up car, applied suncream, and peddled race day programmes. Amazing how hard it is to sell, get coins from deep in bag when peole waving £20 notes etc all on time with no confusion, but we did it and shifted lots of them.
Then to hand in tabard and coinage and commence socialisation, Jo and Ni, Jamie and Bella, Brett and Rob, Plum , John B, heavenly twins, Debo, Nikki, Oli, all the Modbury young et al…..lots of kissing and sun glasses clashing like antlers
Then to procure an ice cream for Margarita trapped in her horse box and finally sneaked off, with chidren to beach. Slept. Toes in warm sand. Utter heaven, Woken by shrill tones of a woman saying to my left, “The rugby team don’t drink like that Rowan!” to which I heard teenage boy on my right reply. “They do when on tour Miss”
“Oh yes? Do they? we will discuss it on Tuesday” and I realised hearing that, how swiftly the Easter hols, will be over
“Honestly they are supposed to be revising! No wonder we have such poor results” the female voice said quietly to someone else. By this time I was awake . We were on Mothecombe beach. Dogs still allowed (till May 1st) A 3 mast scooner out in the bay. People kayaking SUP-ing, generally frolicking in what is blue but nonetheless, ice cold water this time of year. Had diff. getting into relaxing position with my wonky hip. Cannot lie flat etc. cushion devices propping up right leg, all so confining and foul. Roll on op for hip in just a very few months.
Home to find OFT had cooked a wondrous Chicken feast. I did not partake, on principle. Won’t eat anything cooked or planned by that creep. OFT’s daughter and chum partook eagerly however, then we all watched Netflix film on the redoubtable Lee Alexander MacQueen and then with table strewn with uncleared plates, bottles and a mass of cleaning up, they announced. “We are off to bed, goodnight”
I was aghast. River Sprite and I set to it Rubber gloves, loading dishwasher etc. “If she had said, “can we help?” I would have definitely said, “No” I said to R Sprite, “but she did not even offer”. R Sprite and I kept noisy hoover robot thing on very loudly near their room by way of revenge and R Sprite jumped up and down on bathroom floor to disturb them in room below. A most gorgeous day to conclude and so much enjoyed… actually selling things.
The River Files 