Treats and tuts

I had to go to Uplands to the stationery shop and discovered the farmers' market was on. Ended up spending loads of money on, amongst other things, these delicious-looking treats.

I dropped Husband off at the hospital for his cataract assessment this morning so I figured he would need a treat with his blurry eyes when he returns. (Not all at once of course!)

We've had some lovely weather this week and I've fitted in three walks: two to Pobbles with Daughter and Louie, and one on Swansea bay with Husband. As Husband said, "How lucky are we to be able to walk down the road and be here."

Previously we'd tried a bit of foraging over the tip but they'd cut down the pear tree and we only found two apples.

And some conkers, which are good for nothing, but have to be collected. It's a thing. (I've heard it said that a bowl of conkers in a room deters spiders. I am not convinced.)

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I don't like the cars that are appearing now that look like armoured tanks. I don't like the cars that seem to have rubberised panels in the sides. I don't like pale cars with bright red wing mirrors. I don't like drivers who look cross because I'm sticking to the speed limit.

That's all. Just needed to empty my brain.

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Visited my young boy in care. He asked me how old I felt. I couldn't answer. I don't feel old but it's really difficult to remember how I felt when I was twenty/forty/sixty. Inside I probably feel the same as always.

Outside now, that's another thing. As I'm sitting here thinking I'm finding and tugging on hairs on my lip and chin.

How old do you feel? Is it possible to answer that? Does it depend on the time of day and state of body?