...beside the seaside, beside the sea!

We took a trip to the coast at the weekend to visit some old friends. Their garden is always changing - it started out as an overgrown jungle, which they transformed into a veggie plot contained in raised beds with some flowers dotted around. Now it's three quarters flowers, with a smaller veggie plot tucked away at the far end.

They brought some massive pots with them when they moved in, from the days when they lived in a flat with only a courtyard, and these look incredibly elegant lining the pathway. There are plans afoot to lay a camomile lawn in between the flagstones!

We always try to fit in a stroll down to the sea front when we visit - whether it's bracing on a cold day or relaxing on a warm day, all that sea air means we usually sleep very well that night! There are always inspiring things to catch the eye on the meander down there.

Like this little house...

Or this workshop, with its Vivienne Westwood/Union Flag-style door...

Or the ubiquitous, rusty, corrugated iron fence...

And this garden, with its nautical style...

The pool was closed...

...but perhaps that was because everyone was out at sea!

While writing this I suddenly remembered going on the Sunday School Trip - when a convoy of double decker buses would leave the city to head off to the coast for the day. I call it the Sunday School Trip, but it seemed to involve the whole community, all crammed onto the buses, singing the whole time - Three Craws Sat Upon A Wa', Ye Cannae Shove Yer Granny Aff The Bus, or Ten Green Bottles. Festooned with balloons, and with multi-coloured streamers unfurling from the upstairs windows, each bus left a fluttering rainbow in its wake, and we kids were beside ourselves with excitement.

My favourite song was the one which would erupt at any moment, usually before the bus even set off. Someone near the front (or back) would start singing 'The back (or the front) ae the bus, they cannae sing, cannae sing fur peanuts.' Challenge accepted, the back (or the front) would reply in kind. On and on it would go, getting louder and more raucous by the minute. I guess those unfortunates stuck in the middle would simply move the imaginary cut-off point a few rows forwards or backwards in their heads and quietly assign themselves to the 'winning' team, until the next time. The singing and the streamers are my only vague memory of the day - other than the sandwiches and drinks handed out for the picnic, which seemed terribly exotic to me. Must have left its mark - I still enjoy the 'surprise' of an airline meal (I know!) and once in a blue moon, sitting on the top deck of a crowded bus, the urge to start singing 'Aw, the front ae the bus they cannae sing....!' is almost overwhelming!

After a lovely weekend, today is a bit dreich - so that means no excuse for not sorting out the studio and getting on with some work!