I admit to an equally rubbish take-away kebab from Meltham, (and won't be going back to the same place again in a hurry, seriously chaps, where was the "salad"?? All meat & chilli sauce, nice, but not really what I thought I was getting.) but that's it.
Fresh food. Veg, meat, chicken,bacon, & beef mostly, but occasional sausages...ha, there's a story there, but it might have to keep for now. Casseroles, home-made chips, mash, stir-fries, farm-shop proper steak-pies occasionally, a salad or three, no honestly, steak, a few old-fashioned "English Breakfasts" just for pure indulgence sake...and woah..don't I feel better for it?
The most gorgeous country, the loveliest views, people, pubs, friends.......So it makes no sense whatsoever to randomly pick an old poem and post it here:
My little buddy, "2e". The walk last week was a bit much for him to be honest. It took him a couple of days to get over it, but he's happy enough now thankfully.
Gwyn looking for something to chase.....
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The point being?
An hour of listening to the cuckoo in Yateholme, while sitting on it's (her?) banks, the reservoir not the bird.
The cormorant.
The heron, a recurring theme.
Para-gliders on Holme Moss.
Sun (Lots) and a cheeky fresh breeze...
Laughter and silliness.
An hour paddling in the stream, silly but fun, and a saunter, rather than a walk, back to the car to go and feast on a "home-made" beef and pork dinner, with "all the trimmings" as they say..
Happy?
HAPPY.
