It is stil raining today but our fingers are crossed it clears soon.

The main job of today is heading back down to Pallant House gallery to collect the painting I fell in love with two weeks ago.

The rain means the traffic is slow and I'm feeling car-sick, so by the time we get there I'm distinctly fed-up. But I am hoping a browse around the gallery and some good food will cheer me up. I know the gallery has a great restaurant so I'm looking forward to visiting it as well as the Frida Kahlo and Diego Riviera exhibiton that's on.

First up we visit the exhibition and I was really, really sure I would like it but in the end I was strangely disappointed. There was just nothing that appealed to me. I thought it would seem colourful and exotic and draw me in but for some reason it didn't. The only thing I did like were some photos of Frida which had been taken in the late 1940s in New York and I thought how exotic she must have looked compared to the fashions of the time. Looking around the whole exhibition only took a couple of minutes and we were done. Not what I expected at all.

The last time we visited here I discovered the joy of the visitors book. So, seizing the opportunity, we went and looked at the book I had written in to see if there were any further comments and I was delighted to see there were! People had taken on my anti-snobbery against Butlins cry and responded in the same vein with some saying they agreed with me etc which made us laugh. Though one woman had written "If only it was as much fun to go there. Maybe it is, my firend's there right now with two kids and her Polish au-pair- just having a break from Tuscany actually. 'Snobby fuckers' do go there- even just for the irony".

I love that to argue against my point she had to mention her friend's polish au-pair and then say they only go for the irony.  And I like how she had to make it clear that it wasn't her who went, goodness no, but if she did she would of course be only going for the irony, not to actually enjoy herself. My argument was that people should be entitled to go where they want with their children on holiday and none of us should be sneery about that. Nearly all the comments in the book hadn't been about the art, but instead about the potentially different class and income bracket of people portrayed in the photos which seemed wrong to me. I don't think her post could have proved my point even if she had tried. So thank you impossible-to-read-name from Brighton.

Next up was a visit to the Studio where currently on display is work by the Chichester High School For Girls Textile Department. The work was amazing. From looking at their website the school is for girls betwen 11 and 18 and the sheer quality of work displayed in the studio, and on their website, is impressive. When we did textiles at shcool we learnt how to thread a sewing machine and began work on an item of clothing which we never even finished. Our art classes were depressing with not enough chairs to go around (how ridiculous is that?) and almost no encouragement to learn or experiment. I love that these girls are obviously having a completely different experience and therefore producing work of this standard.

Exhibitons all done we head off to eat but of course the restaurant had stopped serving lunch so completely tired and fed-up by now we headed back home with just a stop at the lovely Swan Inn at Chiddingford to sit in the walled garden and enjoy the brief moments between rain drops.

Back home it was more paper-cutting but this I am keeping under wraps for now as it's a gift.