Some sort of reverse-Samson going on with the hair - I felt brilliant today, like the me I used to be Before All This Shit Happened™.
I took myself back to St Fagans for another field trip - assignment one of the module is writing a report on a heritage site. This time, instead of wandering around trying to get an overall impression of the place, I went in with questions and, well, now I love St Fagans.
The plan was to have a quick look at the buildings I'd missed before, then concentrate on the indoor galleries with the assignment brief in mind. But because I was feeling brilliant, rather than skulking round avoiding the various building guides, I was in the mood for chat.
It transpired that the guides were also in the mood for chat. I'd ask a question or two about their building, and off they'd go. In the water mill, the conversation swung from Wales to Easter Island via Stonehenge and back again; it was wonderful. I even got a book recommendation out of it.
But the last guy I spoke to was so chatty I couldn't get away; it was ten minutes from closing time when I managed to escape.
I'll have to go back tomorrow to do the galleries.
Today's Photo: The Cormorant Tree
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