Last night I went out for a stroll, past the church and then around to the hilly lane. A pipistrelle bat followed me, its chaotic flight looping backwards and forwards above my head. It was still and quiet, and as I returned and glanced across the field to the side of my house a barn owl glided low above the ploughed earth, rose over the trees opposite and disappeared into one of Alyss's barns, currently full of barley. So Hector was right, there is an owlish inhabitant there. Sorry Olivia, better luck next time.
This morning I cycled into Fram to get my paper and well, say what you will, but a quiet country lane, the sun appearing from behind the clouds to gently warm the air, and the smell of manure all around me and I was away. Sheer heaven. When I came to the steep hill I was amazed to find that I was up for letting go of the brakes and just going for it. I did slow slightly where the lane plunged precipitously, but mostly I sped down and it was wonderful. I felt no fear at all. I did some more dragging of compost into the newly-sited bin when I got back, but that's hard work, and despite there being no animal matter in there at all, the stink was ripe. I was saved by the rain, and so to Aldeburgh again for 45 Years, the relationship drama with Charlotte Rampling and Tom Courtenay. Bittersweet it was, sad and funny and lovely, but her expression at the end left you in no doubt that all was not going to be well any more. 45 years they may have clocked up together, but was it worth it? I scanned the screen for Sammy who was an extra in the Norwich street scenes but couldn't see her. A good advertisement for Norfolk though: Norwich and the Broads looked gorgeous.
We were treated to this film last week, at the Red Carpet cinema in Barton under Needwood, Burton on Trent. The cinema is owned by the daughter and son-in-law of our friend Jenny, with whom we stayed on our way home from Wales.
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