Big old egg'n'ham spectacular for breakfast today and a surprisingly early return for Bud with a burnished copper warship and tank from Dorchester Keep museum shop.
Straight away we sent Jof to Sainsbury's while we did the bottlebank walk in a brisk wind - I wore 2 hats. I did have a bit of a climb in Tunnel Park but the metalwork was a bit cold. Met ex-Puddler Poppy C at the traffic lights who directed us to Mr Cheap on Milton road who sold us 2 pairs of brightly coloured kid's gloves for only a few quid.
To be honest, the rest of the day seemed to entail them preparing for the run and changing all the beds to winter duvets, while I got up close and personal with Tom'n'Jerry and the Wizard of Oz. Thus instead of actual interesting things, I offer up these 2 items from the long-forgotten dusty cupboards of Dorset. One is a plastic bag - yea, but it is 30 years old, but that's where we went when we needed a pint of milk and some fresh coriander. The other is an unopened "Fitsrite Nose Guard" (Binky-griptight inc, New Jersey) which apparently attaches to all types of sunglasses and will protect your sizeable schnozzle against those naughty cosmic rays. Google has never heard of it, I think it may be the only one left in the world, which is quite normal for the Grandparents. Also discovered in the Stasis cupboards of forgotten-ness were: a Halloween Witch outfit last seen in 1967, an elephant-skin handbag commissioned in the 70s, 29 handbags (assorted) and a suitcase labelled Thomas Schnitker (left my Alma Mater in 1985).
Supper was King prawns and new potatoes panfried in butter, with sundry crudites. A dish fit for a king, you'd think, or certainly an ArchDuke of my standing (3 ft 11 inches). But no. Being left in risky proximity to a box of chocolate mini-rolls during Tom + Jerry had left me with a diminished appetite - there were definite murmurings of dissent as I left half my plate.
To make up for it I drew a large picture of a British warship shelling a French coastal installation, even raining down fire and brimstone on "Le Pylon" aka the Eiffel Tower.
Supper was King prawns and new potatoes panfried in butter, with sundry crudites. A dish fit for a king, you'd think, or certainly an ArchDuke of my standing (3 ft 11 inches). But no. Being left in risky proximity to a box of chocolate mini-rolls during Tom + Jerry had left me with a diminished appetite - there were definite murmurings of dissent as I left half my plate.
To make up for it I drew a large picture of a British warship shelling a French coastal installation, even raining down fire and brimstone on "Le Pylon" aka the Eiffel Tower.
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