We are in and out of the super market and back home in time to listen to Saturday Live. I had man about the house racing round so fast his eyes didn't have time to register the luxuries he usually slings in the trolly with gay abandon, the more relaxed ambling allows.
The lady on the food program promises tasty bread. Spelt flour was brought accordingly. And the ease with which it was knocked it up and in the oven in 3 minutes was all she promised. Oh but the disappointment. On the plus side it is a sustaining snack for the starlings, and the worry about an efficient lift of once their tummies were full was unfounded. However not one to be daunted I have found another recipe to try.
The land-rover slides to a stop and 2 faces from my childhood peered out. She had nurtured my love of horses, and he looks as young as ever still with his boyish laugh. It's thanks to her I have developed a voice that stops dogs with evil intent attacking whippet. And thanks to him we had a roof over our heads.
Bit of that
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