The fog rolled in,
I made the right decision this morning and set off westwards into Shropshire. The fog gradually lifted as I drove along Wenlock Edge and by mid-day I was looking out from the top of a hill over a picture postcard view of this part of England. Fog lay like a white sea in some of the valleys to the south. To the East, Clee Hill appeared framed in clouds like some disembodied head, to the West the hill of Caer Caradoc reflected back the low Autumn sun and in the valley below cows farted and sheep pee’d themselves and ran away.
Sock of The Day will be seeing some new appearances after I tidied another drawer and found some socks that were making a bid for freedom but by then I had already put these on:
I know, these should have been retired and they will be.
This evening was spent enjoying fireworks in our neighbors back garden with their young children and some of their family. They even managed to get 2 of the 3 Catherine Wheels to spin properly then the fog rolled in.