It has been an uncomfortable past couple of days here. The sun and dryness determines everything. You get up early, eat and go to the allotment, work until you feel the effects of the sun, then go and sit in the shade, re-hydrate and eat lunch. Play a couple of games on the telephone…and talk about what you would still like to do. it was time to cut the grass paths and water them afterwards. We removed the last of the beetroot and prepped the bed with a mulch layer of dead lower annuals. We did the same to a piece of ground back where the onions had been. It was also time to remove the last of the spuds and get that patch covered for winter. Several veggies needed watering. Things like fruit, courgettes and tomatos really need the moisture. Then the Bride wanted to do a spot check on the parsnips. Of course it is way too early to harvest them, so she promised to only harvest a couple: Once home we had to quickly process them. We froze- in five baggies and ate the sixth with supper. By 19.30 it was time to head over to the little harbour adjacent to our house, for it was time to attend the annual “Harbour Concert”. This year there was some classical music and singing, and the main show was a group that played ‘50s and ‘60s music— you know, sock- hop stuff. It was great and my Bride and I sang along with many of the numbers. It was nice to see so many acquaintances as they strolled by. Some folks that I had not seen for months. It went until 22.30. Many of those ancient guests got up an twisted again like they did last summer. We could all remember when things were really hummin’. It was quite a night and I realised just how loud a group of nostalgic octogenarians could get after a few wines. As you can see, the musici were ensconced on the boat which was anchored away from the quay where we were all sitting. No doubt to avoid having the sage swamped with wailing geriatric girls who had lost their inhibitions and were overcome with adulation. At the very end of the concert we have a tradition here where the last song of the evening is not Vera Lynn’s eternally popular song, rather it is a song that was written about a pub here in our harbour. After that, the night was complete.