Last man up the hill

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It was the Cycle Tour of Britain today & on this day it had reached Devon & more importantly it had reached our main road at 11am this morning. Mark Cavendish, even if he started strong at Barnstaple this morning, hates hills & so was middle of the pack. This is one mile hill - it's exactly one mile from Orford Mill at the bridge over the River Torridge to the top of the hill at the parish of Little Torrington (yes, that's my village, look me up on Google earth & wave hello, I don't mind). So I won't wish this hill on anyone, esp the last man up the hill, he was Italian apparently & he was really suffering, but to me, he was the real man of the race... he made it... the agony showed on his face, but it was pure determination, it was effort, hey, the man's human & he's my winner!

As for Larry.... ooohhhhh

Larry amongst the nightingales

I so miss her. I so miss my mum. Some day, it's fine. But others, it's just not. And today, yesterday, it's all been so hard, so hard of late. I miss her just being here, I miss her to talk to & to hold. I live at home, so she was always part of my life, 24/7 & then suddenly, she's not there, not here & I'm so alone without her. I know I have my dad, & I love him just as much, there's no contest. But. xxxx