Cliff and the young ones.

I have been put to shame by Dan's prolific posting. He is blogging for England while I struggle to put a paragraph together to describe what's been going on lately.

I had a cold this week and that sucked, particularly as it meant I couldn't go NLPing. I expect I picked something up in London, maybe at the gig. I'm still not quite used to how many people there are up there in the big smoke.

The G. Flyers are the first thing to have jerked me out of my design lull for a few weeks, only to do a bit of boring technical stuff but it's worked. I have been putting off jazzing up my CV for a long time but I almost feel like trying now (I said almost, lets not get ahead of ourselves). Not only that but I started talking about it to a lady at the pub who now wants me to give her some photoshop lessons, and we were overheard by another mate who now wants me to revamp his logo. All this along with the tattoo for Carl, a wall adornment for Dave, ideas for boat identity stuff for Daz and a few other projects should keep me busy until I get a proper job that pays money. I just have to start. But not right now, eh?

Being back in Cornwall is brilliant. It has smells and sounds that are all its own. Yesterday Carl and Sally (Millbrook Sally not Cawsand Sally) and I went for the finest of my recent walks. We went down the cliff to Tregantle Beach at high tide and climbed over rocks all the way to Sharrow Point (this is quite a long way), performing impressive stretches, wobbling determinedly at dangerous heights and slipping into the occasional rock pool. On the way we passed the wreck of the drug boat that ran aground about ten years ago, a huge old rusty buoy and a grotto with a poem carved into wall. We picked interesting pieces of driftwood and ended up at the pub slightly soggy and quite exhausted. Getting pissed was followed by an open fire, tempura, Gangs of New York and falling asleep on the sofa. Absolutely brilliant.