Bread line….

……up very sharp to escape Nancy’s incessant barking cough. The middle class chewy bread shop was first to develop a queue in the high street. The collective hatred was palpable when a dude at the front of the queue ordered a flat white coffee to go with his bread. Obliviously entitled.

Back, and Nancy was still in bed so I prepped the tatties and veg and then washed the floor, whilst listening to the ‘Rest is Politics’ podcast.

Nancy is up now and complaining that I’ve followed the gravy recipe to the letter, when I should have actually noticed the chicken stock tub in the back of the fridge, which she had intended to add to the actual recipe. Needless to say I’m saying very little as I have nothing constructive to say about the situation. Telepathy might have been useful though.

Gone Fishing Christmas Special on tonight. It’s my favourite télé box programme.