That sinking feeling

It seems the owners of this little craft didn't return, after my Derelict Sunday blip from last week. And it's got a tad worse. Having tied the boat too tightly to the bank, the rise and fall has caused the stern to dig into the bank and tip the whole thing further into the Avon. What a shame.

But a decent walk nonetheless, having put a dozen red roses on Janet's mum's grave to mark the ninth anniversary of her death, followed by a raise o' the glass and a ham roll at the pub. Hail, ancestors.

Thence home to, if not confront, at least have a chat with the local county planners, presenting their vision of a village doubled in size against it's expressed wishes but with no additional infrastructure, employment, transportation links, schools, doctors or dentist surgeries... 

gotta build 'ouses, innit.