Time to go home

Sunday morning and time for the minky to go home for we were off to R&E’s for a spot of Sunday lunch. Proper, like. At a table with cutlery and dining room chairs and everything. And how the chat did flow. Hardly any let up at all; och, we fairly  covered the ground. The wisdom, I’ll tell you. The anecdotes. R even slipped in a joke about gout. 

And much later, sufficiently rested and revived, The Last of Us. More like it’ll be the end of us.