Words unbidden

spring to mind;
Down in the misting, dim-lit, quiet vale.
Edward Thomas.

This will be apt later in my day.

True to my plan I was late to rise. Whilst Team IttH's more able members went for a wander I made a leisurely breakfast and a fresh pot of coffee. I then had a think about which movie I'd watch from the couch. Which made it all the more distressing when Mrs IttH returned and said "but I thought you were attending the CWMA meeting today?..."
Coffee to go.

I'd thought I'd pop to the post office on my way to town, but seeing the tell tale signs of an inversion I shot up onto the Scar road. Already it was gone, but the clouds, befuddled betwixt air and water, rolled through the valleys in a winding wistful way that I kinda liked. The observant amongst you may notice Orton Church Tower standing beacon in its new coat of glory.
I took a minute to pause and connect, but still made the meeting on time.
It went well. But I do oh so little in this role (at their request) that I often feel a sense of unintentional guilt. So today I proposed a couple of projects, just to keep my hand in. They looked at me like I'm daft, which is of course entirely plausible, but agreed to let me crack on.

Later I did watch a movie, but really it couldn't hold my attention. With one eye on the screen I proof read someone else's work and was dismayed. I'm not sure what the exact quota for plagiarism is, but it sailed disturbingly close to the work of others I've read recently, without reference or acknowledgement. In the end my only significant feedback was "please take my name off the contributors list".

If you must write prose/poems 
The words you use should be your own 
Don't plagiarise or take "on loan" 
'Cause there's always someone, somewhere 
With a big nose, who knows



Written by Stephen Morrissey/Johnny Marr.