Another valley - the Mayfield this time.

I went out for a walk this morning with two very old friends, and a lovely lurcher belonging to one of them.  This morning it was the Mayfield Valley, on Sheffield's western edge, dotted with old farms and clusters of cottages.  It's very beautiful, in an understated way, and in any weather.  Even fog and drizzle :-)
We did see signs of ash dieback, including the remains of many trees that have had to be removed. Fortunately there's also a lot of oak and beech in the fields and woodlands there.
We shared a few minutes of despairing comments/rants about the tragedy that is Brexit.  But there's nothing new any of us can say about it, for now.
Then we finished up with an outdoor coffee, a mince pie and some looking forward to further weather-resistant outdoor get-togethers over Christmas.

I looked after Frieda for a couple of hours in the afternoon, while Jack and Marianna shifted furniture around in the attic bedroom that they've just extended and decorated.
This evening, my one task is to find a photo of Jim - brother-in-law - that I can email to the family in N Ireland for the order of service for his funeral (which will be next week). In fact, this will be a soothing task, I think: a way to browse back over memories.