Still, I walked back, because the exercise is good, and the rain had stopped, or rather had dwindled into that kind of wind-blown spray that I always associate with being by the sea. I know that nowhere in England is actually far from the sea, but I think that Coventry is actually just about spot on as far as you can get from it. I'm going to enjoy being at Whitby. Even if I decide not to watch many of the bands, there's the sea.
It always feels like coming home again. Rationally, that's silly, because ground's just ground, and anywhere's as good as anywhere else, but, I dunno, there's something about north Yorkshire. Sometimes I feel like I'd want to go back, but that's not possible, because I've been away too long, and what's there now isn't what there used to be. I don't belong here, but where I might belong seems only to exist in memories.
Lush's new Christmas bubble bar is astoundingly poofy. Not only is it called Ruby Red Slippers, it's scented with carnation and rose, turns the bathwater wine-red, and it's literally encrusted in deep red glitter. I'm going to indulge myself, and Jus can expostulate about discovering bits of red glitter everywhere if he wants to. Then I'm going to make an absolutely HUGE corned beef sandwich with LOTS of mango chutney, and EAT IT ALL.
I may bring the new massage bar with me to Whitby. It's all cinnamony and clovey and peppery, and if people are really REALLY nice to me I may give them backrubs. That'll keep out the East Coast breezes!
So: comforting bath, pigoutaceous sandwich, then spicy