The sky is overcast, and the sea is just lying there, sulking, doing its best to ignore the beach.

Even the seagulls look bored. A few geese are wandering aimlessly about, their body language shouts “we left Southern Spain for this…?!”

The only sensible option on such a Sunday is to stay indoors and drink tea.

For reasons known only to himself, the minute I sat down with a pot of tarry souchong, Buster, our somewhat “special” Burmese, decided that what I needed was a living, breathing, feline neck warmer.

He never does that when I drink any other kind of tea.

Strange cat, that kitten…