Down to the dear old SW for a few days watching a small boy chase chickens and pick broad beans. Bliss. Though the paterfamilias has been muttering darkly about me doing a spot of roofing to earn my keep. Your humble correspondent hasn't been a roofer for about ten years, but as the only family member still capable of climbing a ladder I suppose it falls to me. Will I come back collar bone intact? Watch this space. Now whilst I am aware that announcing to the world that you're leaving your home may strike some as foolhardy I feel I must point out at this juncture that a) Coastalblog is read by approx four people per day, so that's fairly long odds on one of them being a burglar and b) my TV is truly awful and anyone who wants to is welcome to swipe it. Failing that we have a lot of duplo and models of spaceships and pirate ships. Just try not to break anything while I'm gone, okay?
Look, I never claimed to be cool. As a a cliched middle aged male, I have a number of interests which, if not exactly niche, are perhaps not freighted with glamour. Not exactly ones to set the heart racing. I yearn not for wakeboarding, my cocaine with minor celebrities days are well and truly behind me, you are unlikely to catch me writing graffiti under a motorway bridge. I do cycle, but only as a way of getting from point A to point B, you are unlikely, you will be relieved to hear, to see me purchasing lycra and or/doing triathlons. I like going for a nice walk. I'm fond of a good book. I have a deep attachment to county cricket. Yes, that's right, county, not even the international stuff which briefly captures the nation's fleeting attention once in a blue moon. County cricket. Somerset CCC to be precise, though I'll watch / listen to any of it. The unpopular part of an unpopular sport. Well, that's the public perception, the much maligned two men and a dog. N...
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