We have found a new walk, almost on our doorstep. My cold (not helped by getting caught in a shower) needed a final nudge to send it on its way. It's given us a whole new aspect of our village, somewhere over there, in the middle of the greenery. It was a blowy day, and a fledgling bird of prey was testing its wings. Andy thought it was a kestrel as it was quite small and had a similar flight pattern. I thought it was a buzzard, because of the markings and lack of grey hood on it's head. We Googled images and emerged even more confused. Any expert opinion (as opposed to our amateur guesswork) is most welcome.
Naturally there had to be a picnic. And a picnic needs a view. Ideally there should be fizzy pop, boiled eggs, Mr Kipling cakes, and rolls or sandwiches. We were greedy and had sausage rolls as well. Don't forget the Maldon sea salt for the eggs. (Andy's knee is not compulsory).
If it seems as if I spend a lot of time going out for walks - well yes, I do. And we are lucky to have so many on our doorstep. My life - in the summer - is pretty much compiled of needle felting, walks, watching cricket matches and little domestic things, such as cooking and tending our veg patch. In the winter it is the same, but without the cricket or the veg patch. Much of this is from choice, but I have no disposable income, and all of these things are free or cheap. It is quiet, but it suits me; it makes up for the first twenty four years of my life, which were - well, not exactly ideal, by a long chalk. Some people see their childhood and youth as a golden time in which they had their happiest time. I was not so lucky, so I am very appreciative of what I have now, and bless every day in which I have Andy and the small things of life. Which are not so small really.
Rather like my cucumber - what a whopper!
