The seaside was its usual fabulous self. My flat is so lovely and the sea is so gorgeous and I just want to stay there forever, until the holiday makers come, then Mars wouldn't be too far away. I just love it there with no people.
I returned home to Mr Smith, a slightly well oiled Mr Smith, in a stupid rather stroppy mood. The Apprentice and I were shredding the remains of a chopped down tree and Mr Smith sat on the bench barking directions at us and calling us "stupid" a great deal. What a help he is in the garden! Today he has gone to the far end of Kent to play golf. May his ball get swept out to sea. Kent is one of those counties that is far prettier inland than by the coast; I'm thinking Dungerness here versus quaint little oast houses beside apple orchards. Cornwall is completely the opposite with pretty sailors' cottages overlooking the miles and miles of beautiful sand at the seaside.
I am losing money letting my flat so I have decided not to any more. People can naff off and holiday elsewhere. I am being charged huge amounts of money by everyone for everything and then not getting any bookings so I am running it at a loss. Even I can see that this doesn't make sound economic sense.
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