The Car Wash

How sad is it that the highlight of my morning was accompanying His Lordship to get the car washed and buy a cabbage?
I have to say that watching the car being washed is quite addictive, and definitely an occupation higher up the scale than watching paint drying.

As to buying a cabbage from a supermarket in a student infested area, that is impossible. Students apparently don't buy cabbages, preferring it seems, iceberg lettuces which look like cabbages but are much less tasty and can't be steamed.

This 5/2 diet that I am embracing, without I may say the any noticeable flesh falling off, demands that I eat vast quantities of filling vegetables such as sprouts and cabbage to augment my paltry allowance of protein and carbohydrate; hence the hunt for fully fledged cabbage of the sort that I was fed in the days of yore during my childhood in Scotland, when apart from carrots and turnip, this was one of the staple vegetables.

With His Lordship declining to walk today because of tasks which he considers essential and which require his seclusion behind the Door, I do not have the luxury of inviting you in for coffee as I often do on a Wednesday. I am obliged to seek company of a sort in the local book shop, before I return to the Dower House and attack the tiny hearts of cabbage gleaned eventually and which may go some way to staving off hunger.