Up the road and down the road

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and up the steps and down the steps and up the garden and down the garden … to dispose of the green mountain hacked off at source.  The air was misty, the sea almost motionless, the day mild, the temptation to bunk off to the beach painful.

As if I didn’t have enough to do, the crab apple tree glowed in a few late streaks of sun and reminded me of another urgent task.

The chicken trundling around the kitchen floor while I stirred got so bored she put herself to bed.

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