27/11/2012 by Carl Reynolds
Early again today to get a swim in, as Mrs Ape was due for an appointment. The pool to ourselves, except for the patina of leaves, which briefly adhered to my face with each breath. Stroked by proto-soil, scraped by the homes of beetles to come and mesmerised by the hanging clusters. So much so, that I forgot for a moment that I was cold. The water apparently is still 7 degrees C, but a mile is a long way at this temperature regardless of how habituated and acclimatised you are. Neither Mrs Ape or I got properly warm today; and as I write this I can feel the edge of coldness on my upper arms.
The usual happy crew in the cafe and Mrs Ape’s version of Dan Lepard’s Apple and Rye cake went down well – even if she thought it a little plain.