Elevenses

His Lordship is 'nae weel', he is an ill man, he is a suffering man, an under the weather man. He has been an a-bed man, but has struggled up with ghostly pallor and manly fortitude to take up residence behind The Door. I think he will recover and live, but you can tell it was a serious malaise when he forewent the gym this morning.

There is an elevenses engagement today in the Dower House. I have the two wives of His Lordship's walking companions coming for coffee and to inspect the flat.
Both of them sit in huge stone edifices and think it's time to down size to something more fitting for an easier life, but are reluctant to bite the bullet.
Perhaps the Dower House will persuade them that life in a smaller pad is possible if they are willing to jettison some of their accumulated belongings.

You might note from the blip that the reluctant domestic goddess in me has made gingerbread, but the pancakes are those given to me by LeeAnne's Mum, the champion pancake maker of Midlothian. She gives me about 4 dozen at a time and I freeze them to be used on occasions like this. I would never get 2 pancakes looking the same, far less forty eight exactly the same size. You can begin to see where LeeAnne' attention to detail comes from- that's as far as I will go!