Brokeback Breakfast
Having arrived here as an unplanned event from somewhere else in the universe it’s always good to redress the balance and payback the unpayable debt we all owe the Great Pumpkin. I tend to do this in small ways i.e. I buy two pork pies and a half dozen free range eggs from an environmentally friendly butcher (no chain) with a face that looked liked it had spent many an unhappy hour in the Bar L. He undercharges me by £1.04, do I accept his obvious miscalculation? No, I correct him and for about 30 seconds I feel superior and in touch with some higher life force. Then as a swift return to the gutter beckons I’m about to leave a ridiculously over priced car park - 60p for a full day (!). Having stayed in it all of 15 minutes I hand my part used ticket over to a young lady who has just arrived, her battered faith in human nature is now restored and I can go for some Indian food with a clear conscience and a head full of clouds. I had curried “special” elephant with tiger balls, dishes of edible paint and the usual Technicolor rice.
In the afternoon we rode on horses most of whom had names beginning with M, mine was Moss or Mossy for short. I regarded the mission as a complete success, being the only adult rider as, a) I didn’t fall off b) I didn’t bump my head on any tree branches c) I kept a firm level of control on a spirited, superior mount, a horse that would have been too challenging for the many chubby and no doubt spoiled mini-minors galloping along in my wake.
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