Peace and tranquillity returns to the homestead. Was that a blow, or what? - gusting to 80-odd knots in this neck of the woods; looks like they’re going to beach the abandoned containership, Napoli, after cracks opened on its hull. A tree down at the end of the road, and an accident blocking our alternative route, resulted in yesterday’s trip for victuals detouring via Cornwall. Everything now appears to be hunky dory, although we’re waiting for sleet to arrive. What with the fuel required to keep our Rayburn/heating functioning and my ongoing diesel consumption, our green footprint doesn’t look too clever. That said, the neighbour appears to have felled a small Brazilian rain forest in anticipation of a hard winter.
This morning’s stroll for the newspapers promised a soaking. However, once you reach the top stretch, the sun comes out and all’s right with the world. The sheep look a lot happier. Farmers are out with dogs, moving stock between fields. Hawks float overhead, looking for prey. In some countryside areas you can be stymied by the height of banks and hedges, but here the views are mostly unrestricted. It’s an unspoiled panorama of farms, punctuated by those edifices of stone that are our village churches. Their number presumes a much larger native congregation in days of yore; today they cater to bell-ringing enthusiasts.
Our local team is playing away this weekend, so it’s Five Live for the footy. As we speak, Liverpool establish a two goal lead over Chelsea. Mrs G. remains in the kitchen, baking apple cake and bread. My Godfather inspired meatballs in tomato sauce received the thumbs down at yesterday‘s dinner. I’m hoping to bounce back tonight with a Turkish themed supper, based around new season’s lamb.