Tower Windmill

Burnham Overy

It was a wet morning so after some sorting, yet another trip to the hospice shop and a failed holy well foray, I returned to mum and dad’s to start preparing the Seville oranges that I’d bought with me from Cranston’s with the intention of making some marmalade whilst I’m here. It’s strange how we never know what the little thing will be that catches us unawares. I think we often think it will be a much loved object, a family heirloom, a personal gift, or something we knew that was significant for some very particular reason. Today I was surprised to find it was the pillowcases that used to so often be on their bed. They especially reminded me of mum (came across an old photo of her - extra ...don’t know whether or not she was hoping to grow into the coat!).

Then, the sun came out so I headed down to East Head from Overy. Wonderfully quiet down there, a bank empty of people but with flocks of geese, widgeon, a red kite, and a barn owl and kestrel fighting over the owl’s dinner. Then a lovely sunset as I headed back to make my leek and spring onion risotto with some of Mrs Temple’s Binham Blue.

p.s. hurray, I’ve just found the fuses in a old tub of pickled herrings, amongst dad’s ‘useful things drawer’ along with all the batteries, lightbulbs (enough to take us through to the next millennia... who needs Blackpool), elastic bands wrapped around each other (enough to build a bouncy ball to reach the moon), matches in assorted match books, cocktail sticks to run the bars in Manhattan for a year, pens - assorted, hooks, sellotape - small rolls, large rolls, string, bits of ribbon, aspirin, drawing pins, more batteries, more elastic bands...you get the gist. Don’t get me started on under the stairs, the spare room/study, the garage ....