I was going to have a day off tomorrow at The Great Yorkshire Show for the first time in about 40 years, and the ticket was free! However, I won’t be buying new Silky saw blades or checking out the goats or the thousand other things that go on there. It’s rained off. (What in England – doesn’t it rain there all the time anyway? … Yes)
So instead of lots of pictures of animals and crafts here are two poems from a book of John Clare’s poems, lent to me by my brother (The Woodcutter’s Night Song):
Lie ye there indeed, work again tomorrow, making the Peter Galbert dumb head ratchet modification for my shave horse.
This one has a good evocation of what a cottage might have once been like: