The wind howls across the moor – actually they are pastures – but wind on the Westwood cannot dampen the mood. After all I’m not Heathcliffe. “Pity,” mutters the Princess, dreaming of Tom Hardy. This post is a day late, I know… bad man 😉
Despite the media and dreaded Facebook anxiety level raising headlines I appear, to be still alive. I could put this down to my Viking genes (£20 in Primark) or it could be I haven’t been anywhere? I realised today, my Blog is ten years old and recalled how ecstatic I was when I reached 10 followers. It is also three years since we moved to Beverley in East Yorkshire, so a walk on the Westwood seemed appropriate.
Of course not having been anywhere does limit one’s blog posts, as there are no
idiots people to write about. On a more positive note Roisin; remember her? If you can’t check the link 😉 She is my running partners 16 year-old daughter, anyway, she received her Team GB kit for the Aquathlon in September and while we were chatting her younger sister poked her head out of a window. “Have I really been asleep for 2 days,” she said and disappeared again. Oh! the joys of lock-down.