Before anyone says anything – it’s not my fault that the update hasn’t happened. The Leprechaun and the Scary One are ironing the creases out. That first chapter has a better social life than me. And whilst we’re on the subject I better make it clear that it’s only the Leprechaun’s story that will appear in the update – I’m still working on mine. I needed a bit of motivation, which Scally has supplied. Although there could be a bit of a stand off between us I’m afraid, because she told me I wasn’t getting anymore of her story until I’ve finished the next chapter of mine. And I know Scally; if I’m not careful I'll end up doing a load of work and receiving two lines back in return.

++++

This weekend’s walk was around Clent. The bluebells are now out, the floor is just a carpet of blue.

And walking down the lane I couldn't believe the bright green of the trees. And today’s history lesson is all about Saint Kenelm. And we'll have no moaning, thank you. If I have to walk miles to discover a bit of history, the least you can do is listen, there will be a test later.
This is the spot that legend has it that Kenelm, Prince of Mercia was murdered in the ninth century and buried. Near by is also the spring that marks the source of the River Stour, although I must admit all I saw was mud.

++++


Sunday was of course spent working on the website and also JJ6. Well some of Sunday at any rate. There was a part of it spent in WH Smiths. I had to go into town to get youngest some trainers, he’s most inconsiderate and keeps growing out of them. This time he needed a size 11.

Whilst in town, the St Georges Day parade went past – led, I might add by a piper in a kilt. Himself decided to stand and watch and I wandered into Smiths, just to have a mooch of course.

During my mooching I found a book I quite fancied reading, Penguins Stopped Play by Harry Thompson, it was right by another book, Bermondsey Boy by Tommy Steele. And they were on offer, buy one get one half price, which was a bargain. So was The interpretation of Murder by Jed Rubenfeld and I spent ages trying to decide which two to buy. I just couldn't make my mind up, so I brought all three.

At which Point Himself joined me and suggested that we have a look for a book on walks in Worcestershire. We print all our walks of the internet and I'm afraid it's a bit hit and miss. I swear we walk at least an extra mile because we've gone wrong somewhere and had to double back on ourselves.

So upstairs we went in search of the travel section. Himself finds two books, the AA 50 walks in Herefordshire and Worcestershire and Roger Noyce’s Pub strolls in Worcestershire. Look, he found them not me. I was way to busy three isles away where I’d come across Anne Bradford’s The Haunted Midlands, which wasn’t far from The Folklore of Worcestershire by Roy Palmer. When Himself eventually found me I was sat on a chair engrossed in a book.

I was going to put them back, honestly I was – I’d spent enough already. But Himself insisted, he hadn’t brought me an actual birthday present, he said. I agrued that we had a day out in Telford, which I'd enjoyed much more than a present, but he insisted that it wasn't the same. Money had been so tight at the time with him being off work with a broken shoulder that the only thing I was bothered about was making sure the bills were paid. The Mortgage was more important to me than a present, especially one that I would have had to have brought myself. Himself doesn't do presents. And it’s surprising how quickly the savings disappear when you’ve only one wage coming in, so I just couldn't justify the expense.

So I ended up buying all of the books. I’ve decided that I’m not going to think what I should have spent the £50.00 on (£50.00 on books, I need my head looking at), not books that’s a fact. But I do take his point, I work hard and very rarely spend any money on myself – it was a one off, and I shouldn’t feel guilty.