I am full of concern today. I’ve had a traumatic few days. I’ve heard my voice on the Garrett video. I’ve seen my decrepit image on the Trail Camera and to cap it all I was up till two this morning reading a book which wasn’t written for rufty, tufty, hairy arsed old men.
I started reading it just after lunch yesterday. An hour later I put it down and went a walk in the rain to clear my mind. That didn’t work; I came back and read it through in one sitting. Great it was, well written with no jarring grammar or ridiculous use of vocabulary. I laughed and cried. I empathised with the characters. I’m worried I'm turning into one of those. I’ll have to seriously re-appraise the image I have of myself. The cause of this introspection, the catalyst was…….’The Birds, the Bees and Other Secrets’ by Frances Garrood. Years ago I tried reading a girlie book, ‘Message in a Bottle’ by Nicholas Sparks. I was underwhelmed. I never finished it. Thank you Frances not only did I read your book in one and a bit goes, I loved it. You are an authoress and a bit. Today having had enough of sitting in a wet wood, I’m moving to the foot of this mountain. Keswick lies at the opposite end of Derwentater in the shadow of Skidaw and Blencathra pictured here.
Whilst in Keswick, I’ll sort out all the fungi photos and get myself a proper mans’ jumper in the Norwegian wool shop. I quite fancy a pullover in pink or lilac.