Finer Things
I walked down to the beach a couple of times yesterday: once because I was looking for a post box and when I found one it was over halfway there and it seemed a shame not to go the further 500 yards and once because Wendy was here with Mary and Mary wanted to go pick up shells. We filled a glass jar with shells and pebbles, threw big stones into the water and paddled, very briefly, in the surf. I like hanging out with children; they have an appreciation for the finer things of life.
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