Arthouse

I’d taken a couple of arty pictures of LadyF in Soderberg where we’d been sitting for a couple of hours, but walking back to middle meadow walk we paused outside her gaff and I snapped this. Of course what we didn’t know was that beyond these bright window her boiled eggs had boiled dry and her pan was busily burning itself into a pancake. Dear oh dear.
Still, before then we had a very enjoyable time with so much to catch up on. Which we caught up on! Though she gave me an impenetrable book. I hope she doesn't ask how I found it next time we meet..
I then strolled on, through the throngs of Frenchies newly arrived for tomorrow’s rugby. The High St was looking wonderful in the sun, under blue skies. Onward to pick up a paper and have a brief sit in the C&B with a pint of Swannay. Friday’s aren’t so bad.