Ruralistic

After last night's 11.45 p.m. effort (it's amazing what you can do at that time of night on the end of the kitchen worktop, with an Egyptian dish / candle holder, an M & S silver bracelet and a spider plant for a backdrop) I made a firm attempt to get myself further afield today. (Get it? afield?!)

The beckoning blue skies and bright sunshine helped me to throw the tripod into the boot of the car first thing. A beautiful morning for sure, although there was still something of a fresh breeze blowing across at this point.

And what about that temperature of -1 up in Scotland last night? A July frost, eh? A rather surprising situation to be in if last night you found yourself under canvas. I once had the pleasure of camping in a field over an Easter weekend in April on the outskirts of Buxton. I recall it being a similar temperature the following morning. That was a very long time ago now.

To give you some idea of how long ago, well, the car I drove back then that took me to the far side of beautiful but chilly Buxton, was a Ford Capri, 2 litre, if I remember correctly, in a very pretty shade of custard yellow with a black vinyl roof, with the power bulge bonnet thing going on (yes, that's a technical term). I think it could have been a Mark One and a Half? Is there such a model? A kind of pretend Ford Mustang thing. Ha, whatever the deal, it was ok for back then when I was a lass.

I saw an old Capri driving through town a few months back and pointed out to my 11 year old that I used to have one similar to it. What a very unimpressed and uninterested look he gave me and indeed, how could it compare, when his first car of choice would be an Audi R8 or Bugatti Veyron. Hopefully I'll know by the end of the day whether any family member of mine has won the EuroLottery!

Today's blip then, not awfully challenging I have to admit, definitely not thought provoking, but ruralistic it is.

Yes, I know, my spell check says that's not a real word either.

Apologies. Verbal ramblage done.