Wednesday, November 05, 2008

The holes, a colleague and wonderful man.

1. Butter drips through the holes in my crumpet.

2. Debbie buys my lunch because I've forgotten my purse.

3. I come home to a hug; and 'My poor darling and her distraught early morning phone call'; and my summer shoes, the mould cleaned off, lined up under the bedroom heater.

As needed, forgotten cake and syrup.

1. I promised myself I wouldn't moan and grumble about it -- but I do. And as if by magic, a very kind friend produces the required blaz...