Breaking the FMS rules which today are ‘I drew this’. I didn’t (obviously). If you’d seen my drawing you’d know why I can’t post an image of it. Put I did pick this. A posey of wild flowers for my mum. From her childhood home, Assington Mill.
Here I sit. In my family’s heritage. With my youngest son, on the edge of a stubble field. All I can hear is the wind whistling the long grasses and trees, birds singing and cooing, the odd insect buzzing past. And possibly some thunder in the distance. No cars or trains, drunks or kids, dishwashers… Continue reading Nestled in deepest Suffolk: Assington Mill