Giving up in Goring

Well, we were supposed to be in the new house this week stripping off wallpaper and putting boxes in the loft. But the sleeping solicitors are as slow as a cabbage so we're going to miss our target week. I suppose once you know that, then it doesn't matter any more and we can all relax. Thus today we drove to Goring, a sleepy suburb of West Worthing, a sprawling endless suburb of old people.

Great-half-aunt twice removed Margaret lives there and she directed us to some charity shops in what passes for the middle of town. All 6 were very nice, I'm sure. But such emporia rely on the locals for their donated stock and it's fairly obvious that the local residents are all old ladies who really like royal memorabilia, 78rpm records, horrendous pink china dolls, brass objects of no apparent purpose, and kitchen cupboards that were cutting edge back in 1961.

We left and hit the seafront with its sandy playpark. I climbed and swung and dug sandpits and rediscovered the giant spinning bowl that can fit up to 3 queasy children rotating a bit too fast. Forgot the camera so 1) End of the world and 2) No images are available. We warmed up in the Marine Gate restaurant by the bowls club and I ate a whole adult cod portion, and some chips and peas until I was stuffed. Margaret noted that any other kid would have stuffed up on chips and left the fish.

Back at hers she gave me a £20 note for being so groovy and we raced home to Pompey where I added it to my Lego fund and spent all of it on the Lego Lord of the Rings Uruk-Hai Army which has a flag and several humanoids and a shield and a horse and a little castle and stuff. I could have had the large brick selection box for £30 but I wanted the LOTR even though it's a lot less stuff for the same money. Jof said I fell for the name, and once the little battlements and catapult are broken up and lost in the giant Legobox, all I'll be able to find of it will be the horse. Clever people amongst you will see that he dressed me in a pyjama top today. Then he made me do homework before I was allowed to open it.

Hobbit Corner

Naps'n'snoozes. These become more important as you get older, although they were once important to me. After lunch, Grandad pretends to read the paper by covering his head with it and going to sleep for half an hour, for Catnap #1. If insufficient is happening in the afternoon, there may be Catnap #2 but it is after supper that the main snoozing goes on. Both will be in their large armchairs with the TV on volume 11 and they drift in and out of consciousness. You can only tell how many people are in the room with you by checking their eyelids. Of course after they've been asleep all evening and we've gone to bed they wander around the house singing loudly till 1 in the morning because they do not have to conform to any normal human routine or timescale. Once they spent the day rehearsing for a singing concert in Salisbury. They didn't want to go shopping during the 2 hours gap before the actual evening performance so nipped home, slipped into their comfy chairs, and snored their way through the entire concert. Still, it was nice to have practised. In extreme circumstances (such as when they took us to Weymouth) and they're in danger of missing scheduled sleeps, they take it in turns to have a coma in the car (mobile napping).

Once we were there at the same time as Blind Uncle Len, gorblessim, and his ladyfriend Gwen. After lunch they all shut down, leaving us with what could have been 4 corpses if it wasn't for the dribbling, snoring, twitching and farting.