Farmers Market

It was the kind of almost-October morning when the gloves might have come out of the drawer had I known it was a breezy 10°.
I flitted into town before the tourists had finished their sausage and egg breakfasts and flitted home via the Farmers’ Market before my stepdaughter brought her new pride and joy MiniCooper round for parental inspection.

And beautiful it was too with a sophisticated seal grey exterior and a dashboard that resembled that in the cockpit of a jumbo jet. Not that that was the official colour. I think moonshine *came into it but I can’t remember.
It made His Lordship and me quite envious of having a car and the world at your wheels. Names were suggested, but it seems it’s official title is Ms Cooper, which seems eminently suitable.

Later Daughter#2 paid a visit while she waited for a call to go over to Fife and operate on the badly smashed wrist of a young man injured in a car crash. It was going to be a tricky op in a different hospital to hers and with a team she had never met. Not the way to spend a relaxing weekend.

* Moonwalk grey- I checked!