Monday, 7 February 2011


Warm sunlight across the ploughed fields.

A small vanguard of cranes heading north.

A buttered piece of Tod's fresh-baked sour dough bread.

Making pie for supper from leftovers of yesterday's roast guinea fowl.

The kitchen French window open onto the terrace to let in the warmth.

Vita slowly pottering in and out, hoping for treats.

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