Where Have I Been?

I expect more curious amongst you have been wondering where I have got to. Well, unbeknownst to myself, the other half had booked a guesthouse for a few nights in Broadstairs, on the Kent coast, following on from the Easter break. A nice enough little surprise - which is more than could be said for the guesthouse. It turned out that an old church in the next street and backing on to the premises had been undergoing demolition work over the last few weeks. It was a bit of a shame that no one had thought to close the windows or to thoroughly vacuum up the layer of silver-grey dust which lent practically every object - from the frames surrounding the rather faded and twee chocolate-box-lid-art prints that lined the walls at all sorts of haphazard angles, to the tired bed frame, the top of the wardrobe and the insides of the cupboards - something of the quality of the lunar surface as seen in those old NASA photographs. The solution - to old Toyntamen's distorted mind - can bee seen, above right. LOL! The bed squeaked - no... screamed - in protest at the slightest movement, pretty much ruling out any form of bed-related conjugal adventure and the first morning saw yours truly - never known for my tolerance of noise - awaking grumpily, not to the screech of seagulls and the cooing of collared doves but rather to the insistent rattle of pneumatic drills and the rumble of a JCB (a sort of tractor / digger thing ubiquitous to building sites, road works and the like here in the UK). It turned out that the plan was for us to escort the other half's best friend's kids around the place; which actually turned out to be one of the better parts of the break as it provided the excuse to visit all sorts of historic sites such as Canterbury Cathedral and also Howletts zoo - sorry; Wild Animal Park ('zoo' is no longer 'PC' here) - which turned out to be great; all as good as it gets when you're lumbered with someone else's kids. I even managed to get a little writing done here and there; notably when having shipped off said kids and Mrs Garth (Note for all single ladies out there - or those not so single but not too choosy either: I am not actually married) to the local shopping mall's cinema for the afternoon. I actually missed out on a film that I would have quite liked to have seen just to get some words down, but I had a whole bunch of ideas in my head and the fear I always have is that by the time I get to put pen to paper, as it were, the moment will have passed and the inspiration gone off track. So keen have I been to continue with the present story arc I'm working on that, despite my desperate need to get back into the gym after a break of more than a week, upon arrival back in London yesterday afternoon I was straight into the John Baird pub in Muswell Hill, North London (named after John Logie Baird, the television pioneer) with pint in hand and computer out on my lap, typing away insanely. Actually, it was a rarity to be able to work out of doors but here in London it has finally reached a temperature conducive to pub garden orientated working. Indeed in a moment I will be off to the Ponders End Wetherspoon's to meet with an old friend but also hopefully to get a little more work done. The sun is blazing and the gym can wait until tomorrow morning (but definitely then).