Windy days come in the foothills, on the edge of the farm, way down the track and by where the grass tussocks spring tall from the damp earth. Wendy stands there and lets her hair blow like she doesn’t even think at all. She pulls her striped jumper up to her mouth, her favourite...
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Funky walkers are out walking in the springtime. Ernest here has his very best shades on and his favourite red boots. Ok, so they belong to Margaret but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t need stupid stuff like footwear to go out walking. Not when she loves Ernest so much anyway, and doesn’t he look...
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“I’ve seen this before!” says the angry troop member, “We’re going round in circles, past this spot where welsh rarebit was only he’s gone now”. The patrol leader doesn’t care for this kind of negative, disobedient talk. “Shut your trap you little traitor!” he says but then suddenly he realises he’s gone too...
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