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It has been such a good weekend (apart from knock backs from the dodgy Keighley hidden history thing, and Ilkley Lit Fest) that I am struggling to remember it all.

I thought I idd a laundry on Friday, but having my own blog I discovered I did that on Wednesday. I know I entertained in the evening (bacon steaks on a bed of potatoes. shredded cabbage, onion and caraway seeds), and did another private P.G.Wodehouse reading; but what I did in the day is a blank at the moment.

Hang on. I went to Keighley to talk business with Roger, then called in at Mike Harrion’s in Frizinghall. That’s taken a weight of my mind.

Saturday did heavy shops at both Morrisons and Lidl. Also did guerilla gardening at the top of my street, and showed the widow’s children how to plant bulbs. Whilst I was working a woman turned up with a big smile. She set my looney alarm off even before she started telling a story of assault. She seemed non-violent, and friendly, and I am not proud that she heard or saw me giving an opinion that prompted her to come back and demand to know if I thought she was mad. The trouble is that she had been standing at the end of the ginnel for minutes, watching and listening, for her to know that is what I thought.

Today. Set off with Bev to repeat the bluebell walk of a few days ago, a trip into the unknown for her. We saw many butterflies by the River Calder, just above Brighouse; more species than I can remember seeing in one place, and possible more than Bev had ever knowingly seen (or had pointed out to her by someone that knew). Peacock; orange tip; brimstone; a small white (maybe a wooded); and at least two more I could not guess at.

We then met a bloke with a dog. The dog looked very resigned once the bloke got talking. I did manage to force my recommendation of Elland Wood on him; but did do the walk he recommended, and we did discover a secrete bluebell wood below the railway between Elland Junction and Brighouse. We had to leap across a raging torrent, or rather hop across a sluggish stream; and then had to retrace our steps when the pond met the railway, but we, or rather I, nmade discoveries in the shade.

Then the Barge & Barrel (best quote:I arranged to meet her outside her house, and she never showed up!) and the Malt Shovel (Man’s voice That’s why I’ve grown a beard, to keep lasses off. Woman’s voice Well it’s not working love! I’m puckering up. The same man said he walked to Brighouse because: Nobody says owt to yer; but if you walk on’t canal every bugger smiles at yer an says ‘Ave a nice day.’… Feck off!’

It were a shared adventure and a lovely day.
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