The wind is whistling through my window frames again. A familiar auspice that yet another tempest is brewing. Seagulls hang nervously outside, giving unknowing credence the old wives tale about their movement inland when a storms at sea.
run of swell has been the talk of the town and, in line with their propensities, simultaneously ignited fury among Daily Mail readers and elation among winter chargers.
And theres still so much more