Dean

We slowly got up and clothed ourselves and drifted up to the farmers market. It seemed rather thin on the ground, both in numbers of stalls and people - but maybe we were just later than usual.  Then we ambled across the Dean Bridge and down through the Dean Gardens to Stockbridge, where we picked up a bit of nice cheese from Mr Mellis and then a no 36 bus home. A bit of back-blipping, a few emails - a glorious day of doing nothing in particular. Just what was needed.