Feeding the fish

Because of last nights fun and games I was hurting a lot this morning. The delicate nature of my mind was further reinforced by a trip to Tesco. Why supermarkets insist on allowing people to help pack your shopping in order to raise money is beyond me. I can never work out the social etiquette of these situations and ended up standing there very aware of my hangover whilst a wholesome mother explained to me that they were raising money to improve their schools play ground.

Food bought, I escaped the brightly lit hellhole and settled into a therapeutic afternoon of cooking for Mr Fish and the lovely SJ. A couple of hours in the kitchen and we all settled down to a tasty curry feast, good wine and great company.