A wet Saturday In Trottiscliffe

Pronounced Trosley, of course. We were out for lunch with Doreen, Barbara and Savid at the George at Trottiscliffe (or Trosley) which we’d passed by last summer.

We took Doreen out to lunch. Susan didn’t go as she was still struggling with her cold. It was a miserable day, cold, wet and windy.

The lunch was excellent, service and ambiance very pleasant. Afterwards we tried to take Doreen to the village of Sole Street where relatives used to live but we’re thwarted by road closures and jams on the narrow lanes of the diversion.

Susan did manage a short walk this evening in the very fresh air while I carried on a little further before returning home with some sliced ham for tea.

It felt like a Sunday today, I’m not sure how tomorrow will feel.