Remember this stuff? I think

Remember this stuff?
growing northwest of Apuldram Manor Farm

I think we used to call it "arrow grass" or "dart grass" as kids. I’m sure that you were just the same as me, and used to pull the heads off the plant and throw them at friends. They always stuck best to woollen sweaters – they were hopeless on cotton and polyester shirts. I seem to remember some story along the lines that the one that you would marry was the person who you could get these things to stick to. But then I’ve heard that about cleavers too, and it never worked for me. Not yet anyway.

I should be working, or

I should be working, or preparing lunch, or doing some laundry, or tidying the flat, or going for a walk or something. But, no, I’m working on posting some pictures here for your delectation. Don’t say that I don’t look after you.

Butterfly on ragwort
Butterfly on ragwort, spotted as I strolled by the harbour on the hottest day of the year.

Decaying hulk at Dell Quay
A decaying hulk by the boatyard at Dell Quay. I may go back and take more pictures of this on another day.

Chichester Harbour, looking west from near Copperas Point towards Oldpark Wood
Chichester Harbour, looking west from near Copperas Point towards Oldpark Wood. Anyone that tells you that Chichester Harbour is not one of the most beautiful places in the country is talking pants.

Trees at the high water line
Trees at the high water line, where Salterns Copse meets the briny. The roots seem to be clinging on for dear life to the banks of the channel here, and make fantastic shapes as they struggle.

Knapweed growing near Copperas Point. There was a huge patch of this plant, that was attracting a large number of small bumblebees.

Reedmace growing in the canal west of Crosbie Bridge at Donnington. The world and its wife (including me) usually calls this plant "bullrush", but strictly speaking that is something else entirely.

I think I may be

I think I may be becoming impossible. This is, at once, a good thing and a very bad thing. Hey ho.
Anyway, very late beer with Kearn and Greg, with sightings of Kristian, Stein and Nicky. Yay! Home is where the beer is.

I meant to tell you

I meant to tell you about a couple I passed in South Street the other day. They were in their 40s, him in a sweater and chinos, she in a red summer dress. They were walking towards me, and as they passed, she said to him:

You needn’t worry. I’ll scrub you clean. With my tongue.