Eternal rest

Another summer Sunday, starting bright but turning to drizzle as we set off for Stratford park. The festival of nature was being held there, and there were gazebos dotted among the trees, with various nature-based organisations providing information about their work, with interactive displays.Steve chatted to various people he knew, and eventually I wandered off to the Museum in the Park (too crowded) and Tesco's, because I was looking for a book by Liane Moriarty, having just finished reading Nine Perfect Strangers. I didn't find one.

I walked back through town, as the sun came back out, checked out a charity shop for books by LM.(none) checked out Waitrose (none, but there was a book of seaside murder stories that I resisted) and walked back home via the canal. Oddly, this was only about 7,000 steps.

Back home, I had lunch/tea, and then retired to start reading Magpie Murders by Anthony Horowitz. My legs were aching (not the knee, this just gave me the odd bit of gyp today) and I had a Lille nap. Got up much later, watched Countryfile, about Jersey, whilst ironing. It occurs to me that, if air travel is to be disrupted for the foreseeable future, I could always revisit the Channel Islands for a holiday one day (not that CoVid has done with us and our future plans...after Omicron BA4/5 there'll be another variant).

As there was still daylight left, I went out for another walk, through the lower cemetery (hence the bench pic) and through the woods to the Horns Valley, which was in shadow. There are another two benches there, so I sat for a while, then turned round and returned, before the woods grew dark. Now I'm watching Servant on Apple TV. Creepy, but I have Indie on my lap for reassurance.