Posted by Tania Kindersley.
Work, work, work. I look up at six-thirty, and realise that I have absolutely no idea what is happening in the world. The Mongol hordes could have invaded Whitehall, for all I know. There is now no coherent thought left in my head.
Outside, the sky is blue and grey, the colour of pigeons. My own Pigeon is dozing quietly. It is absolutely still.
I always apologise for giving you too many words, to wade through in your busy lives. Now I apologise for too few.
Some pictures, to make up for it:
Hill, from slightly different angle than usual:
All the best of luck with your work schedule!
ReplyDeleteLoved the photos had a happy time tryng to identify the plants and smiled at your mint, mine is growing in great drifts by the moat, it's not menat to be there but it is all the more beautiful for all that. Thought the bullock quite enchanting but not as much as the lovely Pigeon I hasten to say!
ReplyDeleteI just loved your symmetrical coo. I see Tattie Weasle has called it a bullock but I'm too oppidani to know boy coo from girl coo...
ReplyDeleteI've loved reading the antics of the dogs (The Pigeon and the temporarily-motherless-burn-splashing-Older-Niece's-dog).