This morning the farmer and I went for our six-weekly visit for manipulation at the Physiotherapist. Half an hour each on her couch means another six weeks without quite so many aches and pains unless we do something stupid.
By the time we returned to our little market town it was lunch time and we resorted, for the first time in a year or two, to fish, chips and mushy peas from the chip shop. Because the amount of chips is so huge, we shared one portion of chips (and then the hens got a few), but we really enjoyed it all. Perhaps the fact that we hadn't had it for a couple of years made it more enjoyable. But the fact remains that is is surely still the staple 'British meal' and is still good value for money. We don't live all that far from the North Sea and from some well-know ports, so the quality of the cod was excellent.
Then an afternoon spent just Tess and I visiting friend M - an afternoon of chatting to a dear old friend, and a short drive back just before the dark set in. (I am not allowed to drive in the dark).
Once I have read today's blog posts I shall spend the rest of the evening looking out some poems to read tomorrow at our Poetry afternoon. I discovered a poem I didn't know by Robert Frost - 'Departmental' - if you don't know it, look it up on the internet. Half the fun of our poetry afternoons is choosing what to read and what to leave out.
See you again tomorrow - that 2000 creeps ever nearer.