Mince pies

Went to buy 100 mince pies for a prize celebration at Claire's school. She specifically asked for Iceland's luxury mince pies, because they got good reviews. Typically, those were sold out everywhere, so instead I debased myself in the aisles of mammon where mince pies of many varieties are still plentiful.

And there, in the Tesco car park, in the dark, at sub-zero temperatures, I found Nick - not he of the yurt, but he of the barn - upon his bicycle, about to head for home.

We squeezed him and his bike and his shopping in. As well as Megan. And a 100 mince pies. Well, 102 actually.