Remembering the last house my grandmother lived in, a house that fitted into an awkward corner made by two roads in a town by the sea on the North Norfolk coast.

A series of photos from an exposed but forgotten roll of film I found rolling around in a drawer.

I'm never sure how to write about a book I love. Sometimes I write lists of books I've found wonderful or useful. Occasionally, I've written about unfamiliar words - to me at least - from something I've read. This book is different though. It's a book I've read a few times and always find something new and meaningful.

Here’s the first post of a continuing series - hopefully. These are the photos I take around and about with no clear directive in mind. Like written notes, I think of them as visual notes.

My husband read me this article the other night. Let me see if I can remember it correctly. It's a good'un.

You may have noticed if you've visited here before, some changes. For five years and a bit, I've blogged and posted writing prompts at A Picture, A Story. Lately, I've been thinking about this effort. What is it all for?