Ah the vagaries of this language of ours. Over in East Sussex we have Uckfield, which as you might rightly assume, rhymes with duck and here in the West we have Cuckfield which is pronounced Cookfield. 🤔 With Spring beckoning (I take it on a day by day basis weather and temperature wise) and the mercury rising I risked a chill by removing my vest (I jest) and we trundled over to Cuckfield for a gentle wander a couple of weekends ago.
We are now almost a week past surgery and Mr GBT is improving in small ways each day. It has been and continues to be exhausting in ways I'd never anticipated before everything went awry. I'll simply let the images do the talking, but it feels like another small win and has given me a boost being able to put a post out.
Arilx
I loved going for a gentle wander to Cuckfield (pronounced Cookfield) with you.
ReplyDeleteYour comment that Mr. GBT's health worries are exhausting in ways you'd never anticipated before everything went awry completely echoes my own feelings regarding Jos's.
All we can do is try to enjoy tiny slices of "normal" life. xxx
It all looks beautiful in sunshine and reminds me that I might be 'home but miss the reassuring established gentility of English villages and countryside. Primroses! I always looked for those on roadsids and railway embankments when travelling at this time of year.
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