Interestingly this afternoon I walked past a street of beautiful gardens near my train station and three houses in a row had beautiful bushy acers, in the ground in un-sheltered and full sun positions, maddening isn’t it
I’ve always got on with them but playing by the rules, but then some other folk are just lucky I guess!
It's official: Grandparents are good for children
Sunday still feels different. Does anyone else notice that?
Soops kitchen, a place of reflection, refuge and at times revelry.
