Feeding the Ducks.

Here endeth a traumatic few days.
It marks the beginning of the end of an epoch - Sis and I can start to move back to our own lives, begin taking care of ourselves and even return to the physical fitness that we used to enjoy.
The Old Lady, although apparently settled in The Lodge, showed her vulnerability last night by phoning, long past her usual bedtime, to say she needed her ironing board and carpet sweeper, items that she needs as much as her passport and driving license which the Post Office think she should have. Bridges are being burned; they need to be, but that doesn't make it any easier for her.
I have given up my "bucket list," things I'd planned to do on my visits to Bristle; I'll still be visiting of course, but without the time to go on the cycle rides planned, blip the planned blips or visit some of the attractions that had intrigued me. The last time The Old Lady came up to visit she went round all the places she knew and said "Goodbye" to them, I'd like to have done that in Bristle.

So just after lunch, the Bristle bike stowed on the carrier, I started the long drive home - cruise control set to a comfortable speed, listening to an eclectic mix of old radio programmes and music. The planned blip was of a cottage near Tebay service station but, the light wasn't right and it will still be there next time. Instead you have these two girls feeding the ducks there.