You may well be admiring what my mother would have called “a very cunning hat”. I was admiring the way the tiny distaff side of this partnership threw herself womanfully at the lock gate, while he kept a masterful hand on the tiller – steering is not woman’s work, it would seem.
This morning was bright and sunny, but my knees weren’t, and I therefore failed to make it to the fungus hunt. Nonetheless I should have shaped myself and gone out somewhere early on, because by lunch time the light was dire, and I found myself wondering what on earth I was going to photograph. Luckily we had to go to the tip recycling centre, and I was able to take advantage of the trip to Stratford to walk along this stretch of the canal and get some shots.
Now I’m off to watch the last of this series of Poldark, thanking heavens that it’s nearly over and I can do something more constructive with Sunday evenings from now on than sitting yelling “Oh for heaven’s sake, grow UP!” at the television.
