Eating out

It was a good thing that I’d allowed time in hand to get to the dentist, because a road was closed without a notice until it was too late to turn back, and I had to drive on and do a detour. But all is fine. Tooth refilled and no charge to pay. I went on to call on Ronan, who’d had a sleepless night at Amsterdam airport. It isn’t just here that doesn’t have enough staff, it took three hours to get through security because of massive queues, by which time he and many others had missed their flights. It was a business trip, so he just caught up with today’s work on his laptop – which wasn’t expected of him, but it needed to be done at some time, so he just did it. He managed to find a machine with food, startlingly expensive – 5 euros for a can of Coke, 7 euros for a sandwich – but as an alternative to dinner, at midnight, he was glad of it. Luckily, he was able to get a lift back to where he’d parked his car, rather than complicated train journeys, when he finally got back to Luton this morning (he’d flown from Stansted). I’d like to think he had a rest this afternoon, but it’s not my business, he’s a grown man and I won’t ask!

A friend called round this evening and I was able to unload a dozen and a half eggs, all laid within the last couple of days. I’m going to go round the village putting them on doorsteps and also take some to friends in Reading. The chickens aren’t laying as many as last year – young hens lay more eggs – but there are still far more than we can deal with.

Tomorrow, Wink and I are trying lunch at a pub, ten minutes down the road. Tim and I ate there about five years ago, it was perfectly nice but somehow not quite as good as our favourites, so we didn’t go back. Time to give them another chance, I think. She and I are continuing the policy that LT and I followed, of eating out every week. We feel we should support local businesses and, other than food shopping locally, there’s not much more we can do on a daily basis.

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