The house is indeed tattier than it looks in the ad, but not as small as Bloke remembered - quite big enough to fulfil my fantasy of having a family home for the kids to come back to (not to live in). Sigh... We put in an offer, but the agent called just before closing to say he hadn't been able to get hold of the owner - the mother of the woman who lives in it - so we have to wait till Monday.

I have become groggy with exhaustion ever since, though it's a bit too soon for all that.

So here are some pics. This is where I stood in an icy wind waiting for a bus high on a hill:



Sudden shower:



Shoes:



Sea and sky:



Beach huts:



I am grateful for: Son on the camp bed, watching fucking football on the telly; maybe a new home; Bloke; tomorrow; bed

xxx