A walk in the country
I am a fantasist - no doubt. Aren't all writers? And I love to pretend to be other people when I'm walking, or driving, or well, anything really. Today I pretended I was a Jane Austen heroine - nothing unusual in that is there? ;-)
Three miles to Netherfield
I was Elizabeth Bennet today except
I crouched to pee in a bush - and
I'm pretty sure she
never did that. And I
had a short skirt on and
my new pair of jeans and my hair hadn't
been coiffured by a maid.
Or maybe Lizzy did and dear Jane
omitted to say how she
bloomers and squatted in an
unladylike sprawl. It was after all
three miles at least to
But I was still her as I traipsed
ancient paths and
jumped age-old streams.
across fields half smothered by
cloud. And the pheasants
were making a hell of a row.