WE watched the Remembrance Sunday service on the BBC. A hush fell around the Cenotaph as 11am, the hour of armistice, approached. At 30 seconds to 11, the burglar alarm on the neighbour’s house went off.
It blared for three minutes. Imperfect timing.
Later, Jacqui and I went for a walk on Rhossili cliffs. We walked as far as the old coastguard lookout, and climbed halfway down the path to the Worm’s Head causeway.
We sat on a couple of rocks. It was very still. The waves on the incoming tide shushed against the shingle. The sun came out from behind clouds and shone full on our faces.
“I have a very serious question,” Jacqui said.
“Who do you think will get voted off Strictly tonight?”
Home to a couple of glasses of Chardonnay and the reheated leftovers of last night’s Indian takeaway.