This morning we went to the local Country Market, which we used to do every week and haven't done for months. I like the country market, they sell home made cakes, jam, bread, even home made ready meals, crafty things and plants, and you can sit and have a cup of tea with your cake. We went to the equivalent market in Holmfirth last weekend, and it was full to the brim of (mostly older) people eating bacon butties and cakes. Our market doesn't do bacon butties, and also isn't in a tourist hotspot, and this week was strangely empty.
After ambling home, I decided we couldn't possibly sit inside on such a sunny day (and there was the distinct danger I'd start thinking about washing, or DIY, and this is supposed to be a holiday after all), so we rustled up a simple picnic and headed for the hills.
Of course, as soon as we got home the sun came out again, so I gathered tea, books and blankets (not trusting those clouds after this morning) and sat out in the garden, trying to ignore the straggly pots and dying plants.