It's Festival time again - the racing version - and the daffodils have come out to order. This little array lines the railings of a house in Park Place - I biked past this morning en route to the (deserted) shops. Everyone is bent on getting up to the course in good time.
Yesterday, we drove West into the setting sun for my talk to the Lingen History Fellowship on my ancestor's Diary. En route, we stopped in Kingsland, but neither pub there was then serving food. We found something eventually at the Mortimer Cross Inn, near the place where 4,000 soldiers were killed in February 1461. So I read in the menu - enough to spoil your appetite.