Pottery
When I was born, a very long time ago, my grandparents lived in a village about twelve miles from where we have our cottage. I spent lots of time with them when I was little and have such lovely memories. They left when I was ten. Today we parked up in the village and walked up the hill, past where the pit used to, be, past the cafe my gran baked for, past their old house and back to the cafe, which was the post office when I was a lass. The pottery has always been there, and today was the first time I actually went in. We then walked down to the station and across the track over to the river bridge. Such a lovely thing to do.
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