Two bridges

Two bridges to hoy us over the gap between Oxford and Devon. The first, courtesy of College Cruisers:

The second, a present to myself of a collection of short stories by that most quintessential of Oxford authors, J.R.R. Tolkien, illustrated by Alan Lee, famously a Dartmoor resident.

Did I say two bridges? Two Bridges is, of course, a Dartmoor village, so I suppose really that makes three.

And as I'm using 'bridge' metaphorically, and the word metaphor is itself a metaphor, derived from the Greek meaning 'to carry over', I should really say four. Four bridges.

I'll stop there - this is what happens to your brain when you start stuffing the detritus of your entire life into boxes.


  1. Good luck! I am most definitely NOT looking forward to packing! We've been in this house 18 years...two kids, a business, two studios, a piano, a dog, two motorbikes, a car...and too, too many books. I don't even want to begin to imagine what shape my brain will be in at the end of it all!



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