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Being a parent often means the curtailment, or even cessation, of many activities. Some of these are unavoidable, for instance spontaneous afternoons in the pub, others, like going anywhere without milky sick somewhere on your clothing, are perhaps not but seem so.

One that I’ve found has gone is browsing round shops. I never seem to have time, and the thought of needlessly taking Little Boots into shops full of damageable goods makes me wince.

So yesterday, being alone for a spell, I actually did a bit of browsing. Not much that much, because it was a shitty, drizzly day and I wanted to get home, but enough to make me happy. Especially when I found this print by Stanley Spencer entitled The Greenhouse.

Which reminds me, I’ve things to do in mine.

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