A warm day and wonderful lunch was appreciated by we two ladies wot lunched, with yumminess in abundance. The grounds of the boutique hotel had a pooh stick worthy, trickling stream and cutesy bridge for same. Come to think of it babbling old birds as well as the brook. Our surrounds were strewn with flowering wild garlic, it wafted mildly and prettied immeasurably upon our eyes.

Ones chum is a chef, so naturally I became the sous/fall guy/gall and was despatched to procure the not so wild, more a tad miffed garlic (?) which I duly lobbed into my huge portmanteau.

We divvied up the spoils, fortuitously I had the presence of mind to remove it from my bag and left it to loll and rollick about in the boot. Gifting Madam Chef, with the only carrier bag.

Our good lady chef is being encouraged, if not crowbarred…