My Little Unicorn.

Mrs TD strongly feels that she has charitable duties towards those less fortunate than ourselves; thus it was that I was sent out today to the pet emporium to buy provisions to ensure that our garden visitors do not go hungry over the festive season, then onwards to procure a few food items and then The Big Issue from a young and attractive Polish lady who greets me like a long lost friend every time she sees me. The cynic in me says that she worships at the shrine of Dale Carnegie and is manipulating me, but the young man in me is flattered by her friendliness and is delighted to help her by buying a magazine whose only purpose is to provide Herself with a sudoku that she can’t solve. I do hope that the lass has a good Christmas.
 
The last stop was to buy a floral table decoration for the friend who has taken pity on us by inviting us round for Christmas dinner; I really wasn’t looking forward to coughing over Christmas dinner for several hours though I might offer to do my Gordon Blue recipe sprouts for a special treat. It was claimed on a quiz programme that I was forced to watch the other day that 50% of human-kind owns a gene that makes sprouts taste bitter (I have yet to meet anyone from the other half of the population) – my recipe completely circumvents the problem