A crab is creating carnage once more in granny and Beloved's kitchen rockpool. Caught yesterday he came from a pool with little food for him, and fell on our supplies of hermit crabs and snails at once; including one hermit so large and in such an encrusted shell we thought he wouldn't have a hope of extracting it: the vicious claw went in, regardless. For the first twenty-four hours el senor congrejo scarcely stopped foraging. The sea cucumber has taken up residence behind him to catch the fallout. Shrimps and gobies are also hoovering up the remains. Anenomes no doubt ditto except they are more discreet about it. This crab, unfortunately is of same species as previous ones. Beloved intends eating him once we manage to catch another of a less familiar kind . (Problem is they are nippier.)

Another beautiful day. Windier but that just kept things a bit cooler too. The Bottle Blondshell came to lunch plus husband - granny made an elaborate pancake dish she hasn't made for 20 years since she lost the recipe. (It turned up in one of her boxes of papers; she doesn't have a clue how it got there. These things happen when you've accumulated and lost stuff over many years. Another odd and maybe useful fact of ageing.) BB and spouse seemed to like it. As usual gloomy - stuck in their own immoveable mud - house they can't sell, in place they don't want to be. Etc. We took them to the beach and rockpools. 'Fascinating' they said, but didn't look in them.

Two boy hunters this evening. One threw a stone at the Beautiful Wimp and hurt his paw. BW not so wimpish chased after regardless. Boys then saw and heard furious Granny yelling at them and fled; to be pursued by her and Beloved in the truck. And shouted at. They got the message. BW not limping seriously -it wasn't half an accurate shot though - not that granny and beloved were congratulating boys on this. Boys said nothing. More harmless people were out today pruning vines. Our first shot at vine plantings seem dead unfortunately. Another fine evening. xxxGrannyp