The Gloves are Off

Another successful outing this morning with different exit times from the house to hunter gather shopping from town and of course find a blip.

Not that there was much tarrying by me en route because of the cold greyness of the day, and so the shopping was done and dusted before His Lordship showed up for coffee.

It seems as though my camera is a magnet for lost gloves. It must be the result of it being carried by someone keeping her eyes glued at pavement level to negotiate the broken uneven slabs waiting to trip her up and send her sprawling in an unseemly heap. It is interesting to note that with increasing longevity comes an increasing fear of falling and breaking something vital even if it might just be the camera.

And so home to put on my chef's hat and pre cook the soup and venison stew for tomorrow. It is such a long time since I had the experience of preparing a nourishing meaty stew, having had to to pander so long to the resident vegetarian.

Having denied myself the pleasure of making Mary Berry's honeycomb ice cream for our last visitors, my resolve has weakened and it will be made tonight, but with chocolate chips Instead of the honeycomb.