The mist came down a few days ago and is refusing to lift. I’m in a favourite part of the country, yet everywhere looks the same: drearily monochrome. This quarter of the year, from the day the clocks go forward, to the longest day, is generally my favourite time for taking pix, but this isn’t the photogenic kind of mist. There may be lots of rare birds in the reedbeds, but I can’t see them. So I’m busy with the book.
I phoned the health centre in Windermere, to get the results of my blood test. “Normal”, said the lady at reception, then, continuing down the list, “normal, normal, normal, normal” and “no action needed”. What a wonderful word is ‘normal’; at such a moment I’m happy to be normal, average, regular, expected, conventional, typical, unremarkable. Three cheers for normality…
Licensed today: the garden at Calke Abbey...
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