Little Wandering Wren …. chats!

I spotted this poppet of a pink rose against the crumbling English church wall this week.  It reminded me of the song 'The Last Rose of Summer': 'Tis the last rose of summer left blooming alone. All her lovely companions are faded and gone.' Thomas Moore Quite how this melancholy song slipped into  our normally upbeat,  think 'My old man said follow the van' , family singalongs, I don't know.  But since then, I've always looked for my last rose of summer! The last rose of Summer got me thinking how Winter has well and truly appeared in the United Kingdom. She slipped in unannounced after an endless summer. On the back of the gritter lorries, with witty names like Grittie McVittie, Brad Grit, or Spready Mercury ,  busy throwing salt to stop roads freezing over.  Wren's thought for the day: There  is a stoic cheerfulness here despite a gloomy outlook in more ways than one... Brexit remains a monumental looming moment

Melbourne Mum is unexpectedly back in town for Melbourne Cup week after a whirlwind of flights: HIM: Bolivia ---> Peru ---> Chile ---> MELBOURNE   MELBOURNE  <--- Bangkok <--- USA <--- Japan: ME My son and I converge at our Australian Doctors to discuss plans following him coming off the worse for wear having hit a puddle on a push bike in Bolivia. Death Road, Bolivia is sold as the world's most dangerous road on account of the treacherous descent from the La Paz mountains into the Amazon rainforest. The rocky shingle road hugs the mountain with a sheer drop where many have not lived to tell the tale.   It was a very expensive puddle, but it could be far worse! I'm guessing when your kids have been brought up traveling the globe, with two parents that encourage the go off and see the world adventures, it should come as no real surprise that from time to time Mum needs to get home to pick up the pieces. I did have a little rye smile when the