Mrs Ed started the day with a talk about relationships in the Big top. She told me that the bloke leading the session had said, "Let's talk about sex!" and the men's faces brightened up. He'd continued about a church elder from his childhood who delivered "the sex talk" and, hearing this, I was reminded of "the celibacy talk", an often awkwardly-delivered disquisition that seminarians had to endure. The speaker went on to talk about the ever-deepening friendship that developed in a marriage.
Mrs Ed, Edweenie and I went to Butlins' beach in the afternoon. I looked at the idling blades of Britain's largest offshore wind-farm and reflected that their strange beauty meant that at least we were getting some return for our 100% subsidy, and was told (again) not to be grumpy. Mrs Ed and I walked up to the water, she to collect stones to write Bible-verses on and I to look for suitable shells to make cufflinks with. Soon I was skimming oyster-shells on the waves and Mrs Ed was paddling in the sea, the years having fallen away. Edweenie sat reading The Time Traveller's Wife and soon I joined her, with a copy of Mark A. Dupont's Toxic Churches that I'd picked up from one of the stalls in Skyliner.
In the evening, I passed the Big Top and heard a rock worship band play. It sounded like a good night. I walked on.