I spent this weekend in the Lake District, going to my dear friend Epsie's wedding (Epsie is the nickname I use, rather than an unusal name... and she calls me Bill). I managed not to take any photos of the wedding day (oops) but did take some of the Youth Hostel I was staying in, in Hawskhead. It had pretty stunning views.
I read 3.5 books over the weekend, with long train journeys, but in the hostel grounds I was reading a (probably, for this spate, final) Agatha - as I have it out of the library: Sparkling Cyanide (1945). An enjoyable premise, a slightly far-fetched conclusion, some interesting characters... not her finest, not her worst.