I have a good drama story for you but I’ve run out of day in which to tell it. The imaginary equivalent of the Countdown Clock has bibbled and bobbled its way to the end of my round, with that cheery yet rather ominous sound, and that’s all she wrote.
I will tell the story tomorrow, because it is actually a proper mystery and perhaps the Dear Readers might be able to solve it. In the meantime, there is just enough time to say -
LOOK AT WHAT THE OLDEST GREAT-NIECE CAN DO:
This small person was not the rider in the family. Before Myfanwy had to be retired from being ridden, The Oldest Great-Niece sat on her a couple of times, but she never felt at home in the saddle. That was perfectly fine. She had other areas of brilliance. No one gets pushed, in this family. Then, one day, without telling me, she went up into the hills and started taking secret lessons, and NOW LOOK.
I am so proud I could burst.
Story, all polished and in forensic detail tomorrow. In the meantime, a couple of pictures for you:
This was the view the World Traveller and I saw as we watched the miraculous riding lesson:
Oh, the nobility of Mr Stanley the Dog:
My own dear old hill: