Another first.
This morning I cleared up someone's, well, there's no delicate way of saying it, vomit.
When I arrive to open up in the morning the dog has a run around outside the gate. I found the offending pile on the way up to the Church and thought it wouldn't be a very welcome sight to those wending their way to us for scones. Or quiche.
Such was my state of mind after the operation that when I left to pick up red onions and mozzarella I forgot to leave any money in the till.
And that's another thing.
We are well served in our rural land by plenty of village stores and post offices. They sell lots of fab stuff, not just basics. In our properly local PO and stores you can get your dry cleaning done and pick up an Indian Balti.
But none of them stock mozzarella.
I had to drive 12 miles for four balls this morning.
Another lovely, busy day where the sunshine meant everyone ate in the garden. One man had ham salad and then bought four slices to take home.
I sliced into my thumb as I tried to slice the ham.
Blue plasters r us.
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