What’s going on?

Fast-forward three years. I’m in Sussex.  What a random place to end up.

There are a number of things that are slightly odd about Sussex. Firstly – there’s no music. None.  The odd pubs with men with guitars, the odd Irish band. But a proper gig? No. You have to go to Brighton or to London.

Problem is – I haven’t got the money to go to London and I can’t be bothered to go to Brighton. It’s not even that it’s that far – it’s just awkward. Really awkward. Went to a Graham Coxon gig in Brighton last year – we got lost somewhere down the line and ended up at some random station in the middle of nowhere. I don’t even think the station staff knew where they were.

Interestingly – if you Google Sussex you get a few pictures of pretty churches, but most of all – chickens. Apparently many people in Sussex keep chickens.


So what do we do in Sussex?

Good question. People round here seem to do one or another of the following:

  • Trips away at weekends – not us, we’ve no money and I have a husband (yup – husband!) who works in a bar at weekends.
  • The gym.  I hate the gym. Discussions revolve around a) how many times you go to the gym and b) which classes you attend. Yawn.
  • Generic. Outdoor. Activity. Be it sailing, cycling, tennis, camping or horse riding, you’ll do one of these (or all!) if you live in Sussex. I plumped for the latter.

Three years on from my last post and I am married and the owner of a horse. It’s fine – as long as you don’t talk to anyone else who owns a horse. They’re all a bit…horsey.

I like to think of mine as a rather large dog. He follows me round, licks my face and sheds everywhere.


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