Gloria Bee RIP

I am in Lewes, or more correctly in a little village outside Lewes called Kingston. It seems strange to be in this corner of the world for a second day running. Better diary management and I probably could have saved a great deal of petrol money. I've been visiting Uncle Bill, Meriel, Rupert and Roy. We've eaten some fabulous food, wandered around the shops and taken a walk beside the River Ouse. I knew there was an Ouse in Bedfordshire and another in Yorkshire, but had no idea there was one down here as well. A quick check online reveals that the name comes from the Celtic word for water. So no surprises there.

Uncle Bill, Mez and Roy in Lewes

The sad news of the day is that Gloria Bee is dead. She actually died a few days ago but I was too upset to write about it. We found her early in the morning, curled up underneath the kitchen table. We buried her in the pot plant next to her beloved television. I feel she would have wanted it that way! I would like to thank you, in advance, for your messages of condolance, but I would ask now to be left alone so that I can grieve in peace.

350 years ago, Pepys went with Sandwich to look at a fancy new leisure boat he'd had built.

The day continued with various meetings. At one stage, Pepys and his friend Ralph Greatorex disappeared into a darkened cellar to drink a bottle of gin. Later on, he got caught short and was forced to poo behind a door by a mooring next to the Thames! I don't know how to write that sentence in a less graphic way. The day ended in a coffee house where Pepys and a group of fellow renaissance men chatted the night away.