|
Saturday, August 21, 2004
I went up the mountain (Harter Fell) at the end of the road again last night after work - it was ace, but bloody freezing at the top and very windy. As I sat at the top having my can of lemonade and having a breather after struggling uphill for 1 1/2 hours, a bloke in his late 50s came jogging past in his shorts and vest. "Bit windy, eh!" he said, and carried on. I was impressed.
Today we went and saw a couple of houses. One was south of Cumbria and was in a tiny village called Stainton with Adgerly. It was a little cottage with a big garden filled with massive rocks. The old lady was in when we were shown round, sitting by the fire knitting. The house was cool, a bit like the Dingle's farm in 'Emmerdale': old wooden doors, beams (that had been wall-papered over), coal shed, cute little rooms. It was nice but a little out of the way. The other house was on a little estate in Windermere and was horrific: tiny, badly designed, oak effect everything, black tiled bathroom, fag stench. Some people shouldn't be allowed to decorate. I think the wheelspin I did when we left their shit-hole of a house said it all.
.....posted at 6:34 pm permalink
babyatom's
old BIG BLOGS
|
