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Back to the grindstone today.

I love my Wee Widow. There is nothing in her house which isn't useful (the odd gift of perceived usefulness creeps in, is given houseroom for a due period and then rehomed) and very little changes. Soft furnishings are mended and relined, walls are repainted the same colour each year and she's still using the same pots she had when she first married.

I hope I'll last a long time too, popping by every other week, having the same conversation with the odd tiny snippet of new thrown in. It's very comforting.