misty mornings

I woke up at the crack of dawn this morning, perhaps because my shoulders were set in some sort of rictus spiral and desperately needed cracking. Bizarrely, I decided that the obvious remedy was to trot off for a run, and even more bizarrely, it seems to have worked.

I hijacked Laxman as he headed out of the door with Pheebs (M/D's lab) and off we jogged. The mornings are chilly (relatively speaking of course) and there was thick mist rising about a meter and a half off the bottom polo field. The grooms were out exercizing the polo ponies, but because of the mist you could really only see their elegant necks and manes, and the causual slump of the grooms, riding one and leading about five ponies in the charge. The ghostly spectacle, and the drumming sound of their hooves was quite magical.

I managed to run round the whole of DP in about fifteen minutes, which obviously needs improvement but isn't too shabby. The dog was knackered, but I think she's out of shape too.

Managed to wrestle a computer from Dad and had a conversation about the demise of poor Woolworths. Quite bizarre as Woolies was a symbol of childhood, North Wales, treats and travel for me. From penny sweets to my first single on vinyl, and my first cd single I think (definite tape purchases in between) and lots of random things in between, Woolies was a central pillar of the high street when I used to come home to the UK on holidays and it is a real sign of the times that it is truly disappearing.

Drove past another sign of the times this morning on the way to work, Dubai Mall, though for very different reasons. For me it embodies the tide turning in my beloved sandlands, it is the big toe of the step too far. Vast, open too soon, tangled design, impenetrable parking and random shops, I haven't heard a good thing about it yet. Perhaps this global meltdown has come just at the right time to slow down our crazy city, perhaps it will cause a crash that will blow us all out of the water - who knows. I just hope the rumours about Sheikh M's illness aren't true, as without him at the helm, I don't think things are going to be pretty in this little sandpit of ours.