We have for your delectation an unrepentant thriller in the chiller dept.
There are subplots, firstly a new lipstick confirms that I’m over it, back on it, sorted so no need for concern. Fundamentally life’s fulcrum, the golden ratio, Venn diagrams and waft of Confucius “I was complaining that I had no shoes till I met a man who had no feet“. Particularly poignant when I hear of a dear chum, and kindly Canadian follower who is recently diagnosed with a ghastliness. So this is for you x
Some chocolate truffles (3 boxes to be precise) with no mention of exactly who or why they were left next to the radiator in the boot room will be expressed. The customary “Well it wasn’t me!” notwithstanding. They (now a lump known as humph3) seemingly too good to jettison. (If nothing else a very decent chocolate fondu, comes to mind and…
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