Hastings Old Town

Autumn is definitely here and the Indian summer 100% gone. As I write this a-top the hill that backs Hastings, it is blowing a hooley and driving drizzle across the garden. It's not been that bad all day though and in the morning we did get a chance to repeat the walk round to Ochiltree Road and around the archery fields and, later, Dad continued re-acquainting himself with the old hunting grounds by taking us to Hastings Old Town.

Here we parked along the end of the Stade and went for a stroll among the beach-launched fishing boats to take a few pictures and fell in with one old boy who was happy to chat. It was still good fishing, he opined, but this year the weather had been a problem. He'd been a fisherman all his life and showed us his old boat, now laid up on the shore, RX73, the "young Flying Fish" (not the one in the picture here). Bought brand new when he came out of the Navy after the war, he'd used it right round till ten years ago. Now he only goes out with his son, though on a more modern boat. You spend less time on the sea, he says, but you seem to catch more fish. His family had always been Hastings fishermen and they'd had boats called Flying Fish in their family since the Middle Ages, he said.

Back home, Pud Lady and Tom were sharing the cooking today, cheese or mushroom omelette and a selection of vegetables. Dad has bought the house a Scrabble set and Pud Lady is enjoying taking on Dad at regular intervals for some hotly contested games. So far honour is even. Dad also showed Pud Lady all the photos, warts and all, of the Project Erroll house. She is quite excited about it and prefers it to the other options Dad showed her (including the one we got outbid on). Says it will be more fun and has more potential. Go Pud Lady! You've made Dad very happy. He was worried you'd think he'd lost his mind.

Deefs