Last of the year, and it came with the first snow worth the name. Right trainer, navy, on the wall by the chapel at Linthwaite, dusted white on top. The laces were knotted together and looped over themselves, which is a configuration I'd not recorded before and noted with some care — not tied as worn, but tied as stored, if that distinction lands. The notebook has a small drawing of the knot, which I'd forgotten doing.
Twenty-one for 2021, which I noted at the time were tidy, and I'd been half aware walking up that owt found in December would round the year off. You try not to want a find — wanting skews the eye — but I'll not pretend the chapel wall didn't oblige.
Flask conditions good, and the entry records the sandwiches were cheese and pickle, 'for the record', which tells me I knew I were writing the year's last lines. The notebook were nearly full an' all — this entry finishes three pages from the end, and a year and a notebook coming to their ends together is the sort of small satisfaction this work runs on. Linda had the tea on when I got back. That's in the entry too, and reading it now, with the snow and the chapel and the tea waiting, I'd say the notebook knew what it were doing. December 2021, closed.
Written up August 2026, from the notebook.