It’s ramping up. Goodness gracious me it’s rolling, wave-like, immense and all enveloping ever onwards. For instance yesterday, at teatime, the phone rang. See what I mean?
We’re all washed out (some would say washed up) here in Thanet. Just a few days ago, it seems, the gardens and fields were brown and desertified, now, they’re almost mangrove swampish. The turn round has been spectacular to say the least. The chucks are copying the Herring Gulls, swimming around the hedges in the garden. It’s easier than trying to find a dry bit to walk on seemingly.
Tyres! That’s a word that gets the juices running (if you work for Kwik Fit) or, in allatsea’s case, concerned. He was convinced that the boots on his trusty Primera were as bald as her maj’s gov would allow and was on the brink of visiting the local rubber centre for new kit when it suddenly seemed prudent to actually measure the old tread depth prior to parting with wads of dosh. A tyre gauge from Amazon, advertised for £2.48 but actually costing over 6 quid after postage and VAT (gnash gnash) and delivered ever so promptly, revealed that there was over 4mm of tread on all 4 booties. Well call allatsea a tosspot if you like for his signal failure to judge depths very accurately but he’s delighted none the less. Thank you Lord of tread wear. That’s at least 400 squids worth of beer tokens that’ve been released into the market place and he can’t wait to spend them.