O little hill of Butterow

This is the view from CleanSteve's study, taken through glass. I have been wondering why my neck is hurting: at first I thought it was a strain caused by shifting a ladder, but now I am wondering if it's photographer's neck.

More trouble at work: this time something has happened which is indirectly my fault, so there may be ramifications. Despite my best efforts to provide good play opportunities, things seem to go wrong. However, I managed to run a music session today for a class I had not met before, so that was something. Friends who know me will agree that I am not musically gifted...

Butterow is the hamlet opposite our house, nestling into the slopes of Rodborough Hill. It got its name from the old archery butts ( trees used for archery practice) rather than anything to do with butter. Butterow is the beginning of the countryside and the open 'commons' atop the huill; go the other way and you'll be in the leafy avenues of Rodborough, which has a splendid pub, and from there it's downhill all the way to the A46 and the town centre.

I rather fancied living in Rodborough when we were house hunting, but that may have been to do with having ideas above my station, to use a quaint old expression. CleanSteve was quick to point out that some of the houses get very little light at all, and that a Victorian terraced house is going to need more maintenance than, say, a 1930s house. So we ended up in the 1936 house on the sunny side of town. No complaints: I am happy here, and many would kill for the view we have.

Something so odd happened yesterday: when I went into a shop to buy a fleece, the shop assistant, who did not know me, suddenly said, "I've just had my lunch, I wonder if I can keep it down". Turned out she was pregnant, and thought a Subway would be a good anti-emetic. So many things I don't need to know...and I thought it an odd choice myself!

The painted look of this picture is caused by the 'dream' effect in Photogene, if you're interested. Happy Thursday evening, folks!