Fletcher's Flock

Wish you were here…

Wish you were here…

…and I wasn’t. 

Bess writes: “They’ve brought me camping. As you can see, it’s crap. Not a sheep in sight, which means our lot are probably on the loose back home whilst I’m told to sit on a windy beach all day watching people stupidly getting themselves wet. 

 ” If I survive the boredom I’ll post about another equally boring job we did (or rather didn’t do) before we came away – making hay while the sun shines.

Wish me luck.”