So as regular readers may know I’m a bit of a creature of habit. And one of the regular features in my life is the early morning routine. Carol and I are early risers and usually downstairs by 6.30am or so. It’s usually a cuppa for Carol then at one minute to 7am it’s Converse sneakers on and I pop out and over to the little Co-op store in the market square to be first through the door to go and pick up my morning paper, the i. And occasionally some milk. Continue reading
My lovely wife C has discovered a new treat for me – titter ye not – it’s yoghurt. No not just any old yoghurt but a new brand from ‘The Collective Dairy’. Who? It sounds like some state-run farm in the People’s Democratic Republic of Wensleydale or some hippy dippy commune in the West country. In reality it’s probably a brand front for Nestle but I don’t care because it’s just deloverly, that is if you can find the stuff because it’s a bit of a hidden pleasure. It comes in a variety of different flavours although to be honest I don’t much fancy the Russian Fudge which sounds like something Roman Abramovitch gets up to with his girlfriend (you can titter now dear readers).