Some guilty conscious reminding us to be good.

The Boxing Day walk was a fairly modest affair. The cars were parked in the small car park at the end of Green Lane. From there we walked through the dunes to the sea.

The tide was in and there were only a few patches of sand. At the waters edge there were hundreds of shattered razor clams. Most of the birds were out at sea and all we saw were a few magpies and crows and one small oyster catcher that flew away as soon as we got close.

The weather was grey and heavy with flecks of rain coming in off the sea.

Having done the walk we tried for a pub. Our first effort, Gallaghers, was a failure as one of us confessed to the age of one of the children and I just had time to start admiring the range of good beer they had set up on the bar before we were regretfully shown the door. But a hundred yards away was The Swinger Arm. On their bar all the taps were turned round – they had run out of the cask ales. So we settled down to pints of Guinness and Erdinger admiring the fine view across the Mersey.

There is something medieval in the way that The Anglican Cathedral dominates the skyline. Driving around the Wirral it can appear unexpectedly through a gap between trees  and in Birkenhead it looms like some guilty conscious reminding us to be good.

Back home we lit a fire as it started to snow and I made coleslaw to eat with the cold capon and ham and roast potatoes.

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