Astley Park

Some days I feel like these dark evenings don't prepare you for much other than lying down, which is precisely what I fancied doing after a day in the office and driving down the M6 to chez Minx. And whilst I'd still maintain that you'd never have managed to get me back out of the house for a run or a swim, she did manage to convince me that a walk before dinner would be more pleasant than collapsing on the sofa.

And so it was that we went out for a stroll. I was wrapped up warm but gloveless, so my hands were wedged deep in my pockets, leaving the Minx to take me by the arm and me feeling (pleasantly) like we were a Victorian couple out taking our evening constitutional. 

Indeed, it was very agreeable to amble along the road, talking about our respective days and plans for the rest of the week. At one point we passed the grand gates to Astley Park, one of the jewels in Chorley's crown, which happily solved my problem of not yet having taken a photo today.