I am perplexed as to how I should react when someone points at a 14th Century Mappa Mundi and, after you’ve explained the way it was created, the rationale of the monks who created it, why it’s not quite geographically correct, that person says “honestly, what a load of numpties”. I am contractually obliged not to poke them in the eye with a pointy stick, no matter how much I want to.
A birthday. A birthday cake. A really very big birthday cake. I am thinking that the third sponge was a sponge too far.
Swallows performing daring feats of ariel acrobatics to the accompaniment of catcalls and jeers from the nearby rookery as the bigger birds make envious mockery at their darting. The sight made me stop, think back to when I was small and would kneel at my bedroom window to watch the swifts plunge and swoop: I would narrate them like a circus act in the skies.
A gaudy showground-worthy airstream trailer that looks wonderfully out of place next to the haybarns and the old piggeries. It’s one of my dreams to travel around America for a year, state-hopping as the mood takes me. I think this van would make the perfect vehicle. Perhaps not so much of the naked lady action on its rear though.