It's unlikely that my sudden resurrection of this journal will survive after so many years of dormancy as I rely on images to spark off and there are precious few opportunities to gather them now that we are forced into another period of seclusion; the word 'lockdown' is totally inappropriate and I will not use it.
There are a few things to note as we make our daily perambulation of the village and this is one of them. The old telephone box has been turned into a free lending library and, to be fair, it's not all chick-lit and thrillers. So far we've picked up a couple of good reads.
The first seclusion tied in with a period of exceptional spring weather and we managed to paint everything in the garden that stood still for long enough. At this time of year it's not really an option although I did mow the lawn just before Christmas. Monica keeps threatening to get me washing the car but I reckon I can hold that off until at least April. It's not going anywhere after all.
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