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| Honey nut cornflakes & doppelgänger shreddies. |
I found five biros in my handbag this evening, a pair of chopsticks, countless receipts, three ibuprofen packets (all partially used), some ballet tickets, but not the iPod charger chord I was looking for. One of the biro lids bore some of the remains of the incident I like to think of as the double cream debacle: an episode wherein I thought it was a good idea to transport a pot of double cream (amongst other sundries) in my handbag. It was not. A goodly portion of the cream leaked out of its pot and -- perhaps due to the motion -- churned itself into a diabolical half-cream, half cheese, sludge which covered most of the possessions in that pocket of my bag...
In other news, I went climbing this evening, for the first time in yonks: and, unusually for me, mostly stuck to the colours, rather than opting for the rainbow ascent, as I usually do... I did not, however, attempt the overhang below. Another time, perhaps, when I grow Popeye arms:
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