I am sitting at the desk in the study in my parents' house. Here are some of the things I can see:
A feather in a perspex frame.
A photograph of a statue's hand, taken by a Russian photographer, friend of my parents.
A book called 'Vet Clinic Horses'.
A packet of post-its, green instead of yellow.
A mug with a picture of Hampton Loade Ferry.
An old photograph of my aunt riding a pony.
Apologies for the dullness of this post. I can't think of anything to write about, other than boring complaints about my poor violin playing.
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