It's been an interesting week doing all the ordinary things that are necessary to normal life. We're trying to avoid the excellent supermarket that is virtually at our front door. Delicious, mouth watering goodies begging to be bought wafting their fattening vapours through the air conditioning ducts - pure torture I tell you!
We've took the trusty 272 to Have-a-sausage (Hathersage to the non-locals) and visited our friends at their cottage.
Passing the village cricket ground we watched a couple of overs with the sounds of Blackbirds, leather-on-willow, muted shouts of the players and the half-hour chime of the village church clock took us to a different world. Twee or hackneyed that world may be so some but it's a delightful place for me. The walk across the fields was, as ever, really pleasant. There is something about England's countryside that just can't be bettered.
When we arrived at the cottage all three dogs remembered my biscuit pocket which made me feel at home again.
It's better to travel than arrive ... then again ...