Brief let me be ...

Because it's late and as I chose a photo to blip I suddenly felt too tired to type ...
I was early at the supermarket this morning, and home again about half an hour before I would have expected, partly, I think, because I bought less than usual. (I may regret this). It was actually dry when I went out, and despite the unpromising appearance of much of the day it didn't rain till after dark. This morning, however, I ploughed on with domestic huvtaes, at last doing the ironing that has been sitting accusingly on the ironing board for several weeks now. 

When we eventually got round to walking, what sun had been shining had vanished, but we drove round to Ardyne, where the sky looked lighter, and marched off up the road between the farms. By dint of not talking about how far we'd go before Himself's knee complained we got as far as Knockdow, the big house now owned by the son of a Russian oligarch and therefore lying pretty uncared-for since the invasion of Ukraine. The grounds show signs of neglect - mostly in the huge gunnera that has grown just off-stage right in the photo, and the little garden hut in the distance appears to be drowning in greenery. A lone duck landed among the water lilies but appeared to be fed up trying to swim through them and took off again. 

Back down the road, the Canada Geese had occupied a field further inland than usual, perhaps to avoid the wind. A small squadron took off as we approached, flying overhead in perfect Red Arrows formation.

And that was it, really. Enough of today - I'm whacked.