Mum forced to pose.

A day out in Clitheroe, I am secretly fairly blatantly seeing if I can tempt mum to relocate nearer than Skipton when she moves back to the UK. Not that Skipton is so far, but Clitheroe is so near...
We had a meander through the town and the charity shops after being aghast that the gallery next to the train station is closed on Mondays.
Ate at a small artisan bakery/cheese shop called Cheesie Tchaikovsky. It was good, but not as good as Taste deli, also in Clitheroe.
Talked about men and money. Painful for both of us in different ways that conversation.
Back home via Salmesbury Hall for dense tasty cake and zingy ginger beer before collapsing in a sleepy heap at home for the afternoon.