Chris is home after his red cross jaunt to Broadstairs, and home is where he loves to be. He is lying on the couch with Meg ( and a large chocolate Easter Egg which I bought him this morning) and is asleep "watching" some period Agatha Christie rubbish on Tv.
It always tickles me that he . is so easily pleased and I find his attachment to the cottage and "home" sweetly childlike. My attachment to home is always tinged with a slight martyr complex, you know secretly happy but trudging up and down,muttering under my breath whilst feeding chickens,cooking dinner and walking the dogs, whilst organising the car service and recovering the seed potatoes in the allotment.
I went to Prestatyn this morning and got a load of cheap lettuce from a lovely woman in the veg shop that is a sucker for a chicken story, got a few other bargains ( I cannot be too specific here to protect the guilty) for free from other egg customers at the same time and felt everything was good with the world when I came home.
Ned and I are off to work out how we are going to get the large new hen house onto the field ( the one I have agreed to buy from the top house on the gop) then I hope we can settle down with Michael Clayton (2007) on DVD with a fish pie..........hummmm Life in the fast lane
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