Holly's Collar

It was blowing a gale out there yesterday, with wind gusts up to 40 mph and spattering rain. Fortunately it wasn't very cold -- about 58º F (or 14.4º C). Olga wasn't much interested in walking, so I took a long walk on my own westward along the beach, trudging over the shingle with the wind whipping my scarf furiously.

My legs got a workout, that's for sure. As some of you have mentioned in comments, walking on shingle -- as this sort of pebbly beach is known -- is not easy! By the time I got past Pevensey Bay town I was concerned about the state of my shoes and figured I'd come back via the coast road.

First I popped into town to buy a couple of last-minute items -- Dave wanted a few more potatoes, I wanted some apples, and we needed paper towels. I also went to the local bakery and picked up some shortbread Christmas cookies, which are so thick they're practically Christmas cakes!

They're cute, but they're not my favorite thing.

A couple of days ago, I found this dog collar sitting on a wall near our cottage. It had a phone number on it so I called the owner and told her more or less where it was. Well, yesterday the collar was still sitting there, so either I wasn't specific enough in my directions or she wasn't motivated enough to collect it. Poor Holly, still collarless.

I also found, on my beach odyssey, an almost perfectly spherical white rock about the size of a ping-pong ball. I couldn't resist picking it up as a souvenir. It's like a miniature version of the moon.

I got back to the house around lunchtime and spent the afternoon reading. It's so great being here, with only the sounds of the wind and the waves -- no Russians pounding and sawing upstairs (or playing video games or practicing the piano), no sirens, no distractions.

Last night we made cocktails and Dave even got the fireplace going. Olga looks exasperated by the whole affair -- I'm reminded of the phrase "hangdog expression" -- but it was actually quite easy. We tried to Zoom with his family but his sisters didn't show up, so we're not sure whether they were confused about the day or what. We talked to his parents, though.

I'll text my brother later today. It's strange to think this is the first Christmas without our mom. Because she'd been ill with dementia for several years before she died in July, I guess she felt absent (to me) even if she physically wasn't. As I've said before, that slow departure seemed to spare me a lot of grief, or at least spread it out over time.

Dave has plans for beef bourguignon for our Christmas dinner, and maybe we'll watch "Maestro," Bradley Cooper's movie about Leonard Bernstein. Otherwise there will be more reading and more windy walks!

Merry Christmas, blog readers!