Duck house

The duck house is looking a little worse for wear but it still serves its purpose. There were only eight of us at church this morning which was a shame as the new vicar has a two hour journey to take the service. We were able to ring six of the ten bells. It was cold and wet in the morning but brightened up a little in the afternoon. I continued reading my book, Les Enfants d'Elizabeth, a novel recounting the remarkable story of the Swiss nurse who in 1939 established and ran a maternity establishment for pregnant women taken off the squalid winter beach encampments on the coast. This was when two million refugees crossed the border following the Spanish retirada after the Spanish Civil War.