Foxgloves at Farranamanagh

Oooof - thick grey humid mizzle, the sort that makes your hair go wild, the sort you expect is just confined to the coast and elsewhere is enjoying wonderful weather, the sort that makes you sweaty and chilly at the same time.  I had to go down to Kilcrohane and was hoping for a bit of atmosphere - a five kilometre drive and everything from drizzle to thick fog, to a teeny smidgeen of blue sky going on. There was quite a lot of atmopshere down at the lake, the top of the hill swathed in mist. Lots of foxgloves too. Might be worth biggifying.

A calm night and no zombies, but I'm now traumatised over the ending of Game of Thrones. A real roller coaster of cliff hangers and shocks. The scarf was over the eyes for quite a lot of it.

Friends coming to supper - faijta wraps, chili, guacamole, salads. Catch up tomorrow.