Walter was christened yesterday and we hosted the post service party - sandwiches, scones, lemon drizzle.
Thank goodness because otherwise the rain gave us very little to do.
A family who visit us once a month or so came for lunch.
Dad was wearing such a stunning coat (wool, plain back, pristine condition - looked brand new) that I commented. He opened up the coat to reveal a scarlet lining. Not the sort of thing a farmer from these parts might be expected to wear.
He smiled and said the coat had a story.
It had belonged to Harry Secombe.
Harry Secombe's coat. In MY tea rooms.
Made my day.
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