Tiny Tuesday

This morning as I was having my breakfast I felt a sharp sensation on my finger. Looking down, I realised that my signet ring had split and was now nipping the flesh on my finger. A bit of a shame as I know I've been wearing the ring for 38 years having been given it by the first Mrs H. I've not been wearing it that long for sentimental reasons of course; my finger became too fat to get it off! A quick application of the pliers and the offending item was removed. The present Mrs H was quick to remind me that scrap gold prices aren't too bad at the moment.

Thoughts with those affected by Manchester last night. I'll only say that it takes a particular type of coward to target teenage and pre-teenage girls in such a way.