Earlier in the week, I made a comment on the blog about hearing sheep in the field behind me whilst I wrote. This got backed up in conversation to confirm there were 22 of the extravagant lawn mowers in total and they were worth a look. Well, what always happens in these circumstances? They were shipped off to leave 3. I’ve been accused of having a blog named iliketocount when clearly I can’t. I’m not going to re-name it, though, not even to iliketocountbutaren’tverygoodatit because I can. But, by the evidence in this photo, that may seem accurate.So, since Tuesday there are 3 more sheep. If the number increases, i’ll let you know. Until then, please don’t judge me a liar, eh?
My greenhouse is doing marvellous things, too, but this being June and Juneathon being very much on, that isn’t important. Getting out of work is, though, and I managed this at 5.25 today so proceeded in a southerly direction to the seafront to be greeted by a wind of epic proportions blowing due West, right in my nose in the outward journey. And the tide was in. So bar a few fishermen, 2 other runners and a few kite boarding oddities, it turned out to be a fairly quiet run. Until I was shocked as I passed the White Rock Theatre to come up behind 2 females, one possibly the other’s mother (it is Hastings, so I hate to presume too much), the younger one appearing to be an early teenager, quite pretty with her hair in pigtails, to be exclaiming “That was awful. It was fucking freezing!” This seemed so out of place and wrong, I was not quite shocked (this takes a lot nowadays), but certainly taken aback. Wonder what school she swears in to improve knowledge of relevant swearing participles and useage? Wrong, so wrong.
So I scuttled off to the car drove sensibly home, took my photos and here I am.
Well, was. 4.2 miles. 296 cars. 6 sheep.