Borrowdale

A local favourite, but again, never seen it so busy, even at 17.00

A day I almost called wasted. I sat for a while on one of the walls I've built in the garden. I thought I'd spend 30 minutes or so. I'd decided to use some of the longer branches from trimming the trees to make frames for beans and supports for nets. Settled to whittling off the bark, a steady rhythm for a simple job.
And then, just as the blade jumped on a little knot, an old voice filled with love, heard from all those decades ago, that deep timbre, the east country twang. "away from you boy, always away".
I spent three hours lost to a simple job. Everything was repurposed on the farm when I was a boy, all things had a purpose and a place. Three hours lost to remembrance of being my grandfather's favourite little helper, simple jobs, done well. I could have done it in minutes with plastic or canes bought from a centre, he'd have shook his head and called me a daft one, say I'd gone cityfolk.
Not wasted at all.

In extras; I'll just put on record that Missy is a cheat.... Or she just doesn't understand ready-steady-go....