I have never been a graceful person and my mother told me, in the way that mothers do, that I was a clumsy child. I wasn't, I just wanted to get things done quickly so I tended to have more accidents but I never broke a bone or hurt myself particularly. Last week we had a fleeting stop in the Yorkshire Dales and went for a walk. Half way around, while crossing a deep gill, I stumbled, then I slipped, then I fell and, when I came to a halt, my forehead was in contact with a large rounded boulder. Shortly afterwards the proverbial egg came up and it was of a size to make an ostrich squeal during the laying process. I'm not sure why I asked Northern Man whether he thought I'd get a black eye - he has no medical training whatsoever and numerous qualifications in engineering are not much use when it comes to the prediction of bruising patterns - so I was probably just after reassurance. He promised me that I would be okay but now I am sporting a black eye which would make a cage fighter wince. I have to tell you that purple is not my colour and it will suit me far better once it has faded to a nice shade of green.
It did not prevent me from car booting, although my darkest sun glasses stayed firmly on (the very swollen) bridge of my nose. This is what I found .....
A vintage painted magazine rack ...
Lovely little string box in the shape of a house and vintage glass Christmas decorations ....
A panel of crocheted flowers .....
A lovely embroidered picture and a silk embroidered picture ...
and last, but not least, the eponymous old bags.
It did not prevent me from car booting, although my darkest sun glasses stayed firmly on (the very swollen) bridge of my nose. This is what I found .....
Lovely little string box in the shape of a house and vintage glass Christmas decorations ....
