ICE CREAM AND ONE STRAWBERRY

This picture really has nothing much to do with what I'm writing about on this blog post, but I just noticed it when I was looking for the latest photo I wanted and it said it wanted to be on the page.


The little doll and the tiny teddy bear were made by my daughter Carol when she was very young, just in junior school I think.  She always made things for me - and when she was only 11 she made a  very professional-looking marquetry chess board for D and me (at home by herself not at school). 


I expect most mothers, like me, have a box tucked away somewhere with all the little treasures their children made when they were young, and look through them with nostalgia from time to time.  When Carol sees this on my blog I hope she realises how much these things have meant to me.


The delicate heart-shaped 'box' is the one my wedding ring was in when D bought it in 1957 - another memento that I wouldn't be without.


So, on to today's blog.

When we left the hospital yesterday after a long afternoon seeing the surgeon and going through pre-op it was quite late.  We went to pay for the new sofas that we hope will be delivered mid-June, and as D was going through the process I suddenly felt tired.  Noticing the coffee machine I asked the two young women at the cash desk if I could have a coffee and sit on one of the sofas we had chosen - they were so nice, the coffee machine wasn't working, but one of them made a mug of coffee and brought it to where I sat.  How kind people are.


As we drove home, I had a sudden longing, just like a pregnancy longing and said 'I would really love to have strawberries for tea'.  Being a kind husband, D drove me to Morrisons to buy some and then I suddenly felt even more tired and realised it would be late for our meal.  So we had tea in Morrison's café, a first for us, though we often have a coffee there when shopping.  


I got one strawberry at least!  When the girl brought the ice cream she apologised - she said she couldn't find the ice-cream scoop and she had wanted to make it look nice for us.  I thought it looked good enough to photograph, and it tasted even better.  Altogether the two meals, two desserts and two drinks of Fanta cost the princely sum of £10 and all enjoyable.  Eat your heart out Jamie Oliver. 

And here's something that happened as we sat in the café which made me smile, even though it is rather sad in a way.  I noticed that the old fellow at a table across the aisle from us had bought a pot of tea and some bread and butter and had picked up a small bowl.  Something about his furtive movements caught my eye.


From a bag on the floor next to the wall he surreptitiously took out a small packet of long-life milk, and then a packet wrapped up in paper from which he produced two Weetabix, put them in the bowl and poured his milk over them.  Like a schoolboy covering his maths answers so the boy next to him can't copy, he huddled over to eat his meal.


I'll be off the blog scene until some time next week as I go into hospital for my op - I'm not good at being away from home or in hospital, so I'll be glad to get back home.