Sand in Our Sandwiches

The threat of sunshine sent His Lordship and me scuttling down the coast to North Berwick for a picnic by the sea.
We collected our sandwiches and drinks from the Filling Station at Longniddry, a hut sized shop opposite the station with staff who know how to fill a roll or wrap a wrap with a choice of more fillings that you can count on two hands.

We ate our lunch at a ridiculously early hour by the sea while watching dogs and children testing the coldness of the water, but never feeling for an instant that we should bare our feet and join them in the rippling waves.

Thus fortified, we sashayed in holiday style along the congested high street, peering in windows and sometimes being daring enough to enter shops. HL was seen to buy a metal sign for his study which is funny, but with more than ring of truth about it. It deserves to be blipped, perhaps tomorrow will be the time.

By the time we left the town centre, Mr Whippy had appeared in his van outside the Seabird Centre. This was bad news in as much as no trip to North Berwick is complete without a sit on the sea wall and a Mr Whippy cone of E -numbers in hand.
A grand pensioner day out!