As The Crow Flies

At just after 08.00 this morning I was on the lawn, in my PJs and dressing gown, armed with a camera and big lens pointing over the Corvedale to the Clee Hills. Nothing wrong with that is there?

But the two small schoolboys waiting at the bus stop over the road, and just out of shot, thought it was a hoot.

I am awaiting a call from the parents (.."what the %$&**! hell do you think you are up to..?)  or something of that nature.

No sunrise to speak of but the cloud rolling down the dale and across the hilltops took my eye and I knew straight away it would be my blip for today.

Meeting R for lunch tomorrow. I have spoken about R before,  an old, and very good friend from work. Many years ago, he and I and a few others were 'pioneers' for a banking subsidiary called Birmingham Midshires, selling investments over the phone. We were very successful for a time but markets changed and we moved on to other things, but stayed in touch. I always enjoy our catchups, like a couple of old hens comrades putting the world to rights.

A week since my hospital visit/procedure. The huge bruise on my arm is testimony to the fact that things did not go quite so smoothly as we all thought. And it hurts more than it should. Follow up appointment next week. The bruise may be gone by then, but I  have photos in case they deny everything. Ha!