Tin Anniversary

When Mrs O and I first met, part of our mutual attraction was the early discovery of certain tastes in common: cats, black pudding, single malt whisky. At our wedding, ten years ago today, we chose to be toasted not with champagne but with Lagavulin. We also had a French wedding cake - a croquembouche or croque-en-bouche - basically, a huge pyramid of profiteroles. So, we ended today in similar style. Lagavulin has become mind-bogglingly expensive; perhaps Islay has been wracked by a bloody but unnoticed civil war and the stuff has to be smuggled out through crossfire. The profiteroles are from Sainsburys.

Our morning was nearly ruined by Mrs O finding herself having to deal with a work crisis despite her having taken the day off, and being sat in the car park near the boy's school so we could go to his sports day. One of her colleagues finally agreed to sort it all out. The boy, who last year refused to participate in sports day in any way and just sulked through it all, took part with gusto this time. He absolutely loved it (and won most of his races, although obviously acknowledging this, let alone cheering it, is not really in the spirit of sports days for four year olds).

We went on to Kentisbury Grange near Blackmoor Gate for a posh lunch. The place is so new the builders are still there, and we were the only ones in the restaurant. Lunch was very fine, and the General Manager showed us round the hotel (mostly because my mum wanted me to research it). All very luxurious.

Our house rebuild is progressing rapidly, and looking like being finished well ahead of schedule (and well under budget) which is nice. We sat on our own patio, with three close friends and near neighbours, to enjoy our whisky and profiteroles, and reflect on what a long time ten years really is.