Just back from Northern Spain, Bilbao. More precisely Las Arenas.
Gorgeous. Verdant, opulent, stylish. Didn’t want to come home. Well I did really because my tea was ready and I was hank marvin but somehow Margate didn’t have quite the errr, allure, that it once did.
Home again and the project/penance/pilgrimage that is 143 continues. Even annual leave has been booked around the availablity of reliable labour and scaffolding deals. Has to be done and although a tadge disappointed with the input of dosh/time/wonger and passion that’s needed, overall it’s doing us all here in allatsea land a lot more good than it is harm.
Mucker Kev is doing well with his recovery despite the challenges imposed by Santiago earthquakes and the health insurance industry, Bro and the Oz gang all seem to be OK and doing well and on the home front I haven’t got a single whinge for today. That’s a first, being a grumpy, short tempered pessimistic git.
Anyone fancy digging out 3 cubic metres of front garden and mixing up some concrete to fill the hole? All applicants walk this way please.