The summer house on the side of the Southmeade stately pile. The doors open and fold back, there are pretty windows each side. It looks like the sort of place you'd store the croquet hoops and then discover a corpse just before the Sunday play off with the Dowager and the Bright Young Things from the town. Would you call Miss Marple or Poirot? Or maybe Herjson (another eccentric misfit)?
A lovely evening again, I remembered most of my short cut and a quick round is almost exactly 5km (slightly over but not so as you would notice).
Bumped into my neighbour on the way and had a good chinwag, caught up with the news of the summer. We're both disgruntled with various people haha!
Lots of squirrels around and about, I guess this is their busy time. No evening birdsong today, I was out a little too early. I did pass a companion in the Garden, but he was reading and didn't notice me.
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