Running wild

The thing is about a wild and wet Sunday morning is that it’s perfect for breakfast out.  

At our usual stop.  

Rich encouraged me to walk home with the deal of him doing the shopping again and, to be honest, despite the weather, I much prefer that option.

The becks were full to overflowing once more and there was a considerable amount of water streaming down the paths.  We were buffeted around somewhat. Little Dog decided she wanted to chase after some fell runners with a dog.  Given she was attached to my rucksack, I decided to go with it.

Although I can’t say we caught them up, what with a hefty tailwind, a dog pulling and a strong coffee, we were home in no time.

And what better way to while away an afternoon than with soup and crumpets, RICE on the knees and plans for a holiday.