Dishpan Hands

While many were enjoying the sunshine outside, Mr Flum and I were covering a 2-hour washing-up shift at the Well Cafe. It was hot work - it might put you off if I told you that the sweat was running down my face but, be assured, none fell in the sink and everything was scraped, scrubbed and handed to Mr Flum to load into the commercial dishwasher to emerge clean and sterile.
Over coffee before our shift we had a mini-blipmeet- by-proxy, as we discovered we were chatting with the mother of Blipper hesscat, discovering we have a few things in common.

At home the cats (extra photo) were coping with enjoying the heat as cats will; Hazel stretched out on the warm slabs watched by Bramble - either she couldn't be bothered grumbling at him or he was too contented to care.