Fragile

Feeling rather fragile today. I got my overseas cards written but it took me so long to find packaging for the baubles then, when I went to the post office it was closed! Drat! Why can't I remember they aren't open all day now?

I was angry with myself for getting it wrong then I just had to punish myself further by making my way home past mum's old bungalow. A second occupant now there for their first Christmas.

This river, the North Peterill, flows past her little estate. The flow was rapid and I liked the wizened beech leaves hanging on above the torrent. It stuck a chord.