Having seen the particulars for a flat with a garden for sale in Kent, Mr Smith headed the scouting party, consisting of me, the Apprentice and the dog, off to the coast for the day. It was a gorgeous sunny day so we ignored the cold wind and embraced the sea air. The flat was too small and a bit studenty, the only redeeming feature being a little studio in the garden. It made us quietly confident about the one we are about to buy. I am happy and, more importantly, so is Mr Smith.
We went to Mr Smith's golf club for a dose of crustiness. It makes me feel as though I am on the set of an Agatha Christie, Murder on the Links. We had lunch at Dungeness; nuclear fish and chips which was just perfect. After a trudge along the very hard work shingle we mooched off to Rye. Mr Smith had his face on and was starting to whinge. We paid no attention and set off to potter about the antique shops and cobbled streets preventing Mr Smith, who had cheered up a bit, from buying a butter churn. We took him to an art exhib instead. It was very good. Even Mr Smith, who wanted to stay outside because it cost 50p, agreed it was enjoyable. I paid.
We ended up at Ashford Retail Outlet which for me is a bit like heaven, even more so because I will pass it every time I visit the Kent coast. I bought some Zara Phillips riding clothes for my goddaughter, Lizzie, so she can ride like Zara and get lots of medals.
I got home to two cows and an email "Congratulations, your cake has been selected as one of the winning entries to our Seaside Cake competition". Oh bugger.
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