Back in the smoke since last Thursday, but hoping to make a break and head East again later this week, these photos help me connect to a quieter, slower rhythm.
And oh, those East Anglian skies. They start at waist height and seem to go on for ever. Continue reading
Summer has made a welcome return and I spent the afternoon at the Southbank enjoying the last hours of this year’s festival: The Festival of Love.
It had all the hallmarks of previous festivals: bucketfuls of imagination; infectious humour; accessibility no matter what your age or backgroundand; boundless joy.
At the end of my walk, I came back to the marina. The sun was starting to think about setting. A lone swan swam between the boats.
Swallows dived and dipped. The air was cool but not cold. Continue reading
I have lots of pictures of the hay field, so expect another post soon.
Already Tuesday seems a long time ago. It was another dimension. Time works differently in the country.
Close up, it’s beautiful; a work of art.
Almost a sculpture.
Just a taster, you understand. More later.
I was standing in a stiff breeze, bare armed, trying to get a good enough signal to upload some pictures of last night. It wasn’t working, which I don’t understand as if had the full five dots showing. But there’s no reasoning with an Internet connection that doesn’t do as you ask. I shall be home tomorrow, so they will have to wait until then.
Today has been bright and sunny. What a contrast with yesterday’s rain in London. A sunny breakfast followed by some sunny cleaning, then a sunny drive over to Aunt’s to take her to the pub we had decided on. More sunshine, so we sat outside in it. Pictures, and I have a few, show blue skies and bright flowers. They don’t show the farm smells that wafted over us, or the chat of the builders nearby. But we had no complaints. We sat on after we had finished our meal, watching people and chatting. Continue reading
Oh it’s a hard life: leaving London in the rain and driving east to where the forecast says it’s dry, and finding it’s true. Watching the sunset go down with a glass of cider close at hand. My window frames slightly cleaner than when I arrived. Not difficult that; you could have planted potatoes in them when I got here.
Only one thing missing to make it a perfect evening. MasterB has remained in London with the lovely neighbours. It made the cleaning easier; I vacuumed, and where Cat thought the vacuum was a love rival, MasterB thinks it is a dangerous alien.
Between cleaning and dinner (and there is more cleaning to be done if anyone would like to volunteer), I went for a walk. Harvested hay; flowers by the verge, slows; cyclists enjoying the fine evening; a lone swan when I got back to the marina. Continue reading
My one misgiving about posting this is that it might cause a stampede for tickets for the forthcoming Fascinating Aida tour and we haven’t got ours yet. Celia, are you interested? January at the QEH, I think. Octavia will book.
It’s a while since I’ve heard anything of Fascinating Aida; so it was treat when, during a pause between our main and our pud and we were discussing the horrors of a certain airline (which if you are the other side of the pond you have probably been spared), Octavia asked me if I knew it. I didn’t. She fetched her iPad. Continue reading