Between fen and mountains

By Tickytocky

Fenland mist

Murk, murk and more murk especially down by the river. The morning was spent with the accountant and the rest of the day cursing a clock with ships' striking (one to eight bells striking every thirty minutes and repeating the sequence every four hours.) The clock is ticking nicely and striking correctly except their is a faint 'ting' at ten to the hour which I have not managed to eliminate despite two hours of tiny adjustments. I have plenty of patience but it is not limitless!

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