Between fen and mountains

By Tickytocky

The village of yesteryear

I love these old photographs that have appeared in the windows of several of the village shops. I like to imagine the lives these people might have lived and what might have become of them. I expect they are all dead now. This morning, after making the bread, I went out before it got too hot and returned via the village. I then set about working out how the previous treasurer of the painting association had recorded their finances. When I was confident I understood their system, I brought the accounts up to date. My French nephew, who now lives in the States, but travels frequently to Norway where his firm is based, has been in contact wanting to do some hiking in the Pyrenees. I am hoping he will come and base himself with us as we have not seen him for years.

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