A crafty jazz cigarette on the way to the pool for Saturday morning.
Not me, but a Colchester toker who thought that 8am was a suitable time in which to have a crafty drag.
The Saturday swim was so so.
A lane to myself, but a little lacking in energy.
I surveyed the garden back at base.
It is fucked.
I've said the same thing this time of year for the past five years. It will be blooming BRILLIANT by mid-May.
And then it was all about the BOOZE.
I've been doing Dry January by mistake. My 'man illness' over the Christmas and New Year period led to an enforced BOOZE abstinence.
Truth be told and I was probably fine to hit the sauce sometime around mid-January. But I thought that it would be a useful exercise in personal restraint.
Do I feel any better physically for it?
Probably not. But I have managed a lot more writing both in the evenings and early mornings.
An unfortunate co-incidence of an unexpected tax refund and the Colchester CAMRA Winter Ale Festival was always going to lead to trouble.
What a simply wonderful wonderful afternoon.
The entire 15 Queen Street old crowd was there. I think that we are realising that what we once had was incredibly special.
I was even asked to DJ at a future Sunny Colch night out.
This one goes out to all the girls I've loved before, etc.
I limped back to base, sobered up and then DARTS.
A good day.