The Good, The Bad, and The Pretty.

The Good

An ice cream van finally turned up in Ashbourne, so I got to have proper creamy, vanilla ice cream for the first time in a long time. Bit expensive, but it was worth it.

The Bad

‘Did you have a good Jubilee weekend?’ asked the woman in the bank – chirpily!

‘No.’

As if!  I didn’t bother to expand on the combination of feeling ill, not being entirely inclined to the royalist persuasion, and the horror I felt when I discovered that I'd disappointed the loveliest of ladies. Would she have understood? (Would she have wanted to hear it...)

The Pretty

There was a little Chinese girl asleep in a buggy. Does anything come much prettier than that?

*  *  *

I’ve saved the best ’til last. I queried the price of Famous Grouse scotch in the supermarket because it was on two shelves at two different prices. The upshot was that I was allowed to have a bottle at £2 less than the offer price, and it was even cheaper than the store’s cheapest whisky. That’s what I call a red letter day.

I suppose it might be worth mentioning that I feel a bit better today, too.