So, who wants to help ... to frivol in the cellar? (Part 2)

Glass half-full*, eh?

*In which case, let me top that up for you.

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I always try for a glass that’s at l;east half full…

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For Carinthia…

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Supper here has been yon Fish’s Sailing Pie. And very delicious it was.

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We had lunch in a nearby inn and very nice it was, too. Mr Bee has since eaten chilli sin carne (freezer) and I had boozy fruits and yoghurt.

Soo Xx

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We dined upon burgers with me made relish

It was gorgeous

So I imagine that it will be rather good when it is mature for spring bbqs

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In a village hall wiv games.

yardarm

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I got new shoesies

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Very impressive shoes, Twellsy.

I managed to make (with the aid of my trusty Bee) a rather nice stir fry on noodles, in spite - in spite, Darlings - of a recurring migrainey thing which is driving me daft(er).

Soo xx

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Bah! Not a Like like, Soo. Sleep well tonight and may the migraine eff off with due dispatch and trouble you no more
Gxx

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[yawnity] tseep?

Frost on the solar panels and the gazebo.

yardarm

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Ulster fries ready

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Ah, domestic Sundays.

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Had a good walk, today. Snowdrops are appearing and we saw Oyster Catchers, deer and a heron in amongst the usual stuff. The migraine had, thankfully, effed off (thanks, Gus). Embra, in the morn.

Soo xx

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All herons are called ‘Baz’, Soo; I assume you are aware. Similarly, all cormorants answer to Cedric.

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I am exceedingly pissed off.

We found ourselves in Bury St Edmunds on market day last week and I bought a cheese I’d never tried before, unpasteurised ewe’s milk and rather expensive. We ate it last night and it was beyond delicious. But

I won’t be able to buy it again because I simply cannot remember what it was called.

Grump.

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I am glad that I am not the only one to sashay up to cheese mongers and vaguely describe a cheese in the hope I am understood

Sympathies TFM

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Nonsense, TFM.
Unless your man* with the cheeses mysteriously goes bust overnight or is carried off by large predators, he will be there again on market days. So can you be. And then you describe the cheese and he will tell you what it was and even sell you some more of it.

And then you come back here and tell the rest of us what it’s called. **

*or woman, or Cheese Gnome.
**just in case you forget, obviously. It would be rude of us to snaffle any of it.

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Ooh, there’s a thought for me new career. Travellin’ Cheese Sparrer.

yardarm

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Except that I have no other reason to return to Bury St Edmunds and it’s 1hr 50 min away. Seems a bit extreme to go just for cheese. Hmm. Maybe.

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