mam tor

A stomp up Mam Tor in cold wind and bright sunshine - gorgeous enough to make me forget about wanting to be on holiday. Antony drove us home via lots of little roads he cycles down (when avoiding roads that he knows terrify me if I check his whereabouts on the phone map). I must have said “ooooh shall we move there?” about 50 times. Pretty sure coveting is bad for the soul but it was strangely fun!

Gratefuls:

1. Autumn sun;
2. Isaac stomping up the hill in his yellow mac with curls flying everywhere;
3. Listening to the children process big thoughts with love in their hearts.