Thursday.
And the long, slow downhill slide to the weekend.
And I was awake at five when Jools got up, but laid in bed to give her time to bustle around, getting up at half past and joining her for coffee before she went out for a walk.
It was going to be a glorious day, even so early at just gone six, the sky was turning from black to indigo to blue before oranges and reds from the soon to be risen sun joined in the party.
I took shots and had another coffee before starting work.
Shall we?
We shall.
I dived into work, swimming against the tide of chaos, making some headway, enough to feel better about the day.
After breakfast and some early meetings, I see a gap so go for it, and head out for a walk while the sun shone.
Not much to report, really, but just about dry enough underfoot to walk over the fields to Fleet House, then down past the farm and up the down towards Windy Ridge. Muddy in the usual places, but it was possible to find a dry way through.
As I walked up the slope, a child on a sccoter coming the other way flushed a Peacock butterfly out, I rush after it, but it had already found somewhere else to settle and was out of view.
No other seen on the walk, along Green Lane beside the wood and then back down past the paddocks to Collingwood and home.
Time for a brew.
I know this is dull and repetetive, but it is life at the moment, and work pays the bills. I might be travelling soon, before Christmas, which would be exciting. If it happens. We shall see.
There is no Lammo on the radio this week, so I watch train videos, listen to podcasts and so make the time slip by until it was time to prepare caprese for dinner, which took all of ten minutes, of course. I made some garlic bread, and poured a beer for me and a cider for Jools and we were set.
Darkness comes before seven now, and we both do a lot of walking, so need no extra steps in the evening. I mean, I do, but don't, instead carry on filing pictures of churches in abbums on Flickr, and I realise how many churches I have visited. And I have only just started.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment