Postcard From The Edge.

8am, the first day of my holiday, and I'm standing up to my ankles in mud taking photographs because I will always do whatever my darling 'er indoors wants me to do. She deserves no less.
What I won't put up with is dog owners who allow their vile animals to shit well within the smell catchment area of someone ankle-deep in mud taking photographs, and not even have the decency to feel shame never mind apologise. In addition, he was wearing one of those ridiculous ankle-length Barbour jackets which, I'm glad to say, makes him a tit on so many levels.