It’s been a hectic week. It was bliss to get to Dorset and to finish a long day of meetings on Thursday, and collect Charlie on the late afternoon train, and get home to the Parsonage.
We’d made a plan on Friday to pop down to Lyme Regis for lunch. Regular readers of the blog will know that I love Lyme – and it’s the best thing at the moment seeing places that I love through new eyes. We had a delicious lunch in the tiny glazed room perched high over the town that is Hix’s Oyster and Fish House. The afternoon was incredibly warm and we went for a walk down to the Cobb and the beach.
It was appropriate, given all the commentary on last week’s blog about beaches, which I am sure was intended to be purely tongue-in-cheek and suddenly started to get serious for some reason… to see lots and lots of happy bathers swimming in the sea on October 31st. Insane. 
The waves on the Cobb were stormy, but the warm air was balmy. 
In the harbour people were fishing for crabs:
And on the beach were intrepid swimmers who seemed perfectly happy to be frolicking about in the waves:
It was time to get buried in the sand, 
or to sit and watch the world go by,
or build extraordinary sandcastles…
(incidentally I could devote a whole blog to how much I adore sandcastles)…
…or to dig an enormous hole.
I haven’t seen such a happy beach scene for years. I think everyone was completely amazed by the day… a gift from heaven.
And sitting having your glass of wine with your collies outside the most beautiful little Regency cottages on the seafront would be about as close to heaven as I imagine it was possible to get on Friday afternoon.
I love Lyme’s perfect combination of Georgian streets and seaside charm; like a softer, smaller version of Weymouth, which I wrote about this summer.
Some of the great delights of Lyme are to be found in the quiet back streets. It’s the perfect town.
We got home just in time. Friday night was committee night of the village social club, which started at 6.30, as planned, in our kitchen, but I think ended at about midnight. It has been known, from time to time, that the committee meetings are even more riotous than the social club nights, and this was no exception.
On Saturday, after a beautiful morning, the weather began to turn. We went for a fine walk across the hills that afternoon. Autumn is here.
This morning, we went down to the Goodwin’s. If you followed the link to the little blog about Weymouth this summer, you’ll have seen their house the weekend that they moved in this summer. I’m sure they won’t mind if I show you a few sneaky views snapped on my phone.
The Goodwins take my breath away. I’m not sure I’ve ever known anyone who can create a more settled, timeless feeling in a house in so short a time. It’s a fine line between chaos and heaven. Their interiors are amazing; like an extraordinary fantastic creation that you can’t quite believe. Everything has been here for just a matter of weeks. Do you see what I mean?
The Valley was startlingly beautiful in the grey autumn light.
We walked back and I noticed, for the first time, that trees are suddenly completely bare. Isn’t strange how just when you are ready for a change of season, it is here? The sea, sand and sunshine in Lyme was magical, but I will admit I’ve been missing autumn a little bit. I’m sitting writing by the fire, with just the noise of the flickering flames, and it feels as if the year is spinning to its end soon, and I haven’t been happier for ages.
