Frazzled

I’m worn out and frazzled today. I’m writing in my head all the time, like that pen at the bottom of the screen in Word that scribbles away in its notebook for no apparent reason. I need a long dog-walk.

I look out of the window and see that the wheat in my favourite field at the top of the hill - the one with the three beech trees in a line - has been cut. I can walk there again. Hooray.

But first, a shower.