Memoirs

This battered old caravan is hiding in a corner of the garden in the holiday house. Or it might be a shepherd's hut. I peered through the window to see if David Cameron was inside writing his memoirs but it was completely empty. 

A note was left in the kitchen advising us to not let children play inside because the floor is rotten and it is due to go off for restoration. So that counts as derelict I reckon. Thanks to Marlieske for hosting.

We had a chilled day after last night's celebration dinner and I enjoyed doing very little while the others went to the beach in the afternoon when the sun came out. And some of them actually went in the sea. Bravery commendations to be awarded.

I want to revisit the caravan in the dark and try out some light painting one evening.