A sunny Sunday morning in May

Our monthly 'top up' of the central heating oil costs £368. Last year, for the same quantity, it was £227. I fear the government will be blamed for this surge in price and will be slaughtered in this weeks local elections.

Over Saturday lunch the farmers son announced to his family that he's decided to go to Cambridge. His rationale is that it's easy to get to. The pretty German girl who is in his class at school has also been offered a place there. Coincidence ? Between his exams, the upcoming trip to the World Cup and now this unexpected announcement his mother is suffering the particular angst that is reserved for mothers of teenage boys. The two Jack Russells are having lots of long, calming, walks.

In town our dear old next door neighbour has had a stroke. A bad one. She is one of those determined ladies who has steadfastly refused to move out of the family home. Born in 1940 she espoused that granitic ' My children were brought up here and here I'll die here' approach to life. She does not suffer fools gladly.  In fact she has a disapproving curtness that keeps conversations with local officials to a minimum. By pure chance her daughter had flown up from London on a 'surprise' visit only to find her sprawled at the bottom of the stairs. Talk about benign serendipity. Our old neighbour is now in a special care hospital sixty miles away. We're told there is little point in visiting her which speaks volumes about the diagnosis. The daughter sends long and informative texts to all the old ladies friends.

The calves on the village green are inquisitive enough to watch us walk past but not inquisitive enough to get any closer. This might be best described as 'prudent interest'.

Down on the beach the sun has brought out some council workmen with a tractor, a smattering of 'detectorists ' and a gaggle of students who have spent the night on the beach and who are now thinking of heading home. The workmen are here to clear up after the May Day dip :https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jSFdej_JPqw

We wander up the hill towards the cathedral ruins.

By the coast guard lookout a bank of primroses. This year the village verges are carpeted in their yellow flowers. The weather has somehow made this a bumper year for primroses. It is also a bumper year for hares. As I write this I can see eight of them dozing fitfully in the potato field outside the office window.

Heading back to the car we stop to watch a thoughtful heron musing silently in the stream down by the pier.

Life at the start of May is quiet and uneventful and calm.  On our way back to the house we walk by a group of villagers. They're discussing the Kings speeches in America. " We're blessed to have him as sovereign "  says the church elder in a tone of voice that makes it quite clear that doubts about whether he could match his mother have been completely dispelled. There are some moments, never recorded in history books, that whisper all is as it should be. This brief conversation outside the village hall is one of them.

There is something strangely brilliant and unsettling in the choreography of this music video. It was being played on the tv in the trendy student coffee shop this morning . The feel is very English although the lead singer is ( according to 'The Font' ) Swedish. The Hej Hej Hej line will be very popular with rappers. Retiring to a university town has the advantage of keeping one abreast of much in modern culture that might otherwise pass you by :https://youtu.be/x6_mbnsh6VU?t=262

Trying not to buy anything for a year :https://emmastephenson1.substack.com/p/all-consuming

Chat GPT, Goblins and weirdness :https://www.piratewires.com/p/why-openai-models-goblins

Summer musings :https://patricknathan.substack.com/p/nothing-to-see-here

Interesting psychology :https://patricemersault.substack.com/p/a-funny-thing-happened-over-breakfast