Sunset over the Fish Factory

You don't get a more romantic title than that! I've just been to an open afternoon at the Heron Gallery - all cosy fires, mince pies and lovely gifts. Yes I purchased. Then I had to nip across the mountain to collect some muesli which TJ had left in her barn for me. There was a pretty nice sunset going on, changing but I've chosen this as my main blip as it's sightly different view than usual. It was very cold at this point! 

There's a new blog. Three rather underwhelming wells physically but some incredibly complex and layers stories going on. I've met a new hero - Conall Cearnach. Just to whet your appetite, this is how he was described in an ancient Irish myth:
 I saw a man there in an ornamented dining compartment, who was the fairest of the warriors of Ireland. A fleecy crimson cloak about him. As white as the snow one of the cheeks on him, as freckled-red as the foxglove the other cheek. One of his two eyes is as blue as a hyacinth, as black as a beetle’s back the other eye. The measure of a reaping basket his bushy tree (of) fair, very blond (hair) that is on him. It strikes the edge of his two hips. It is as fleecy as a tufted ram.
 Quite a look.