Whoopie

After a hundred hours of hand-whisking Sian and I stepped back to admire our whoopie pies, which tasted as good as they looked.
I did very little work today, but spent a good while browsing in vintage stores and charity shops. Vintage stores always remind me of that part in Bedknobs and Broomsticks where they're wandering around Portobello Road, dancing, eating whelks, rifling through old books and trying on jewellery in cracked mirrors. Incidentally, we watched this during the elongated whisking process, and Sian made dirty jokes throughout. I, of course, laughed at none of them. Not a single one.