Monday, May 21, 2012

Send me a cheque, sugar craft and Sunday afternoon.

1. "I can see you're tempted," says the cobnut man.
"I haven't got any money left," I tell him.
"You can send me a cheque if you like."
"People really do that? You trust them?"
"All the time at markets, people are really good. Send me a cheque when you get home."
I think for a moment -- I am very tempted by the cobnut cheese biscuits. Then I have to tell him: "But I still won't have any money when I get home."
At that he laughs, and says he doesn't want to drive me into debt.

2. We gasp as the chef on the bandstand slides a spring of hard caramel off his steel; and again as he tips a teaspoonful of bicarb into another pan and pours frothing honeycomb on to the worktop.

3. We sit on a bench on the common, Nick and I, and watch as Alec toddles back and forth. "This is how I imagined Sunday afternoons would be," says Nick.

Going away, sweet peas and calls.

1. Waving off the last of our sleepover guests. Now we are free to be tired and grumpy. 2. A bunch of sweet peas -- bright stained glass col...