Thirsk

My mental image of Yorkshire weather is formed by James Herriot and the Brontës and, in March anyway, it involves mist, rain, cold, maybe snow, and very possibly some wuthering winds. When I packed, I brought long-sleeved sweaters and a parka vest. I have long underwear. I have scarves.

Today I wore a T-shirt.

And if I hadn’t been riding a horse in the afternoon, I would have worn a sundress and sandals.… >> Read more

Actually, farewell dear lasagna is right enough. Not that I can eat lasagna myself (nix on the noodles) but in order to keep my computer happy I fed it frozen lasagna every evening. At home I feed it cold packs, but when traveling you have to make do with what you have.

Thankfully it’s not picky and it was willing to eat the same lasagna night after night.… >> Read more