St David's day today. That's the patron saint of Wales and he's the little guy who slayed the dragon that's on the Welsh flag but sadly ignored by the union jack!
I'm plodding my way through either flu or some other bug and trying not to feel sorry for myself. The writing helps and I'm making quite good progress with what is now the 14th story in the Miss Price series. Trying to produce timeless copy under the severe (locality) stress caused by the bexit chaos, I can only choose to ignore it. The Price series is located somewhere north of Bristol and east of Oxford. I don't think it will adapt to a post-brexit era, any more that the UK can within decades. But I''m not going to discuss any of that. It is too sickening.