One of the things I adore most about Cornwall this time of year are the storms. After work today I ate fish and chips on the harbour wall and watched the spray throw itself up over the wall and onto the stone and the occasional tourist. It often carried seaweed up and over the wall. The boats in the harbour were sloshing around. It reminded me of the Mousehole Cat. I love that story.
On another note; I'm getting excited for tomorrow morning. My Lucian Freud books are coming in the post.