That's my girl.

Almost 13 years old and she still thinks she's a kitten. She's up on top of the kitchen units, one of her favourite hiding places. I do love her, I just wish I could trust her not to scratch people, particularly children.
I visited J this morning to take her communion, she's 99 and still lives alone in her own house. I love visiting her, I always come away smiling.
This afternoon was my charity shop stint. I bought a book (extra) poems of Rupert Brooke. Published posthumously in 1915. He died aged 28 seven months after joining up. You'll recognise the last lines, you'd actually recognise several lines from within the book. What a special find.
This evening we had a Vestry meeting. Lots of positive things to discuss which was lovely. Everyone is looking forward to our next chapter which will begin in September.