Fish and chips

Yesterday at the Crown in Old Groombridge, and today at the Bill the Conk at Rye Harbour.  Both pretty good, but the Crown was a nose ahead, thanks to fatter chips that stayed warm longer, and to tartare sauce that came in a little pot rather than a tooth-testing sachet.  (But we’d better not have fish and chips again for a week or so.)

We sat outside at both, and spent a while after supper this evening sitting on the bench at the top of the garden, enjoying the garden and congratulating ourselves on choosing this house 16 years ago.  The fine weather of the past few days has been good for the spirits and the garden.  The fading self-sown verbena at the foot of the drive is chopped down and on its way to becoming municipal compost, together with grass cuttings and some of the tomato plants.  A lot of the rosemary cuttings having rooted well, they are now potted up.  Most of the young potentillas are potted on, and the bit of lavender that broke off a bought plant has rooted and is setting flower buds.

Unfortunately, one of the strongest memories of today’s trip out is the atrocious state of the roads in East Sussex.  A moonscape of potholes, and a lot of cheapo loose chippings where maintenance has actually been done.  We got home with the windscreen intact, I’m glad to report.