I started to write a new post on Saturday but abandoned it after I realized it was no more than a gutter full of cognitive puke. My blogese has gone rusty, so by way of rubbing it down with wire wool and a drop of oil, here are some day trip to the English Lakes photographs. We went yesterday, it was cold but mostly sunny. We had fish and chips in probably the most basic café in the non-Soviet world. No attempt whatever to make it anything other than it was: a place to sit down and fill up. Grey plastic everything. I find that quite admirable in these days of beaded tea-light holders on every surface; though once I'd swallowed my last chip I was glad to leave. Anyway, back to the snaps: you may notice not many of them contain lakes, it was too cold for me down by the water:
Lake Windermere, we didn't take the red, or any other colour, cruise.
Bowness town centre.
Modernisation: Back-street, Bowness.
Grasmere just after a shower.
Gorgeous thick green paint on the back window of a Ginger-bread shop in Grasmere.
Pretty rusted bench in the grounds of the lovely, but sadly concrete rendered, Norman church where Wordsworth and his clan are buried. I forget what it's called.
Detail from the Wordsworths' grave plot.
My book's coming on: I now have 57,510 words. I hope to get to sixty thousand tomorrow morning. So it's bed time for me now.