This is one of our favourite places in Norfolk - Burnham Market. We always visit it when we're staying with my aunt. One of its attractions is the second-hand bookshop, which always has lots of the kind of books that I enjoy: memoirs and diaries and letters of the sort that never get into major bookshops. Then I have several happy weeks of reading musty volumes by people that no one's ever heard of.
It's also a pretty little place.
On a slightly different topic: colouring books for adults seem to be everywhere nowadays. I cannot imagine being so bored that I would want to spend time with one of these. And a friend at choir tonight was saying that she had a sore neck because she'd spent so long crouched over a difficult jigsaw. I've never seen the attraction of jigsaws.
But Mr L and I do spend part of most days doing cryptic crosswords. And cutting up perfectly good pieces of fabric to sew them together again can't exactly be described as a sensible use of time.
But then there are the grandchildren. It's not a waste of time to go to the playpark with them.
Even though they won't remember a thing about it in future years.