The Worker

deserves his wages.  Or something like that.

No 1 son and his partner moved today into their new home, so Mrs B and I went along to help.  We brought along a sort of picnic lunch, which Mrs B is very good at composing, and everyone stopped for a half-hour breather.

In the Extra, the men have just installed the spice and herb jars.  The cook of the house will re-arrange them to her preference later . . .