Love is . . . . . .

. . . . .  a maple syrup and pecan pastry.

For the last week, to be absolutely honest, I have not been a great deal of use about the house. Herself has probably had to vacuum around me instead of shouting, "Get out of the bl**dy way!" I have not cooked the evening meals, or tidied up behind myself. I might even have complained, or been a little tetchy. Yet every day she has kept me provided with food and coffee, and helped me with the most mundane of daily tasks.

While my liking for the occasional cheese scone is well known, my taste in Danish pastries is less common knowledge while my particular favourite, the maple syrup and pecan variety is recognised by very few amongst my circle of friends and acquaintances. Yet, virtually every day for the last week, one of these sweetmeats has appeared, un-requested, with my morning coffee. There never was any doubt, of course, but this is proof that she is really quite fond of me, as I am of her.


My gutter frame arrived late yesterday afternoon. I’m beginning to feel better already. I wonder why the NHS can’t manage such a satisfactory service.

And I’ve just posted yesterday’s, “Broke.”