This is an in-between post

I forgot I'd saved it as a draft but I did it so here it is...unfinished but not quite a symphony.
Today (which by this time was sevearal days ago) was a very important day for Frangelita who appears to have said nothing at all about it yet. (But of course she couldn't as she will still be at work)
Well all I shall say for the moment is that I went to Oxford for the day and spent several happy moments in various bookshops being a very proud mum.
As well as visiting bookshops, we bought a present for someone, had a very nice pie (well, 2 pies, one each) and then visited the Beep who was as charming as always. And also gave me some very good advice about getting a stall on the market (pictures, cards etc for the selling of...you see, I'm mowing that grass which has been growing under my feet since I stopped work and getting the old self out of pasture to attempt the world of commerce and gainful employment yet again. Not to mention making plans for idle hands. No devils here Oh no indeed not!!!) and offered to introduce me to the chief man around the market when I'm ready to attempt it.
A thoroughly decent chap, the Beep, as well as being lovely to talk to and having a very nice stall. But sadly no tiny salt spoons. Oh well, you can't have everything :)

Then Fran went to work and I started to walk towards bus stops and wondered about walking all the way back to her house since it was a lovely day and there are many beautiful places to pass and also very nice shops. Only my intermittent foot fault returned with a vengeance. When my feet are both working, I can walk quite long distances, quite steadily (though other faults, probably smoking and eating related, make it preferable not to walk up hills) but when the foot fault happens I can only walk about two paces at a time. Stopping or sitting down relieve it for another two or three paces. As you can imagine, this makes walking a time consuming business for which I haven't the patience. Actually it right royally pisses me off. and causes me to mutter F words and sometimes more complicated and colourful things under my breath. Often! Well, every two or three paces.
I would take it to the doctor and say doctor doctor my foot wouldn't work yesterday...but he'd only say bring it back next time it doesn't work. Me and the car and our mechanic have been playing this game for several months now.
So I caught the bus and then went to a useful shop of the kind where you can buy Chilli pickle, gram flour and proper poppadums as well as sensible bags of spices (as opposed to ridiculous little supermarket jars) and if you feel strong, giant sacks of rice.
By the time I'd got back to the car with my pickles and spices and poppadums (but no sacks of flour or rice) I was ready to brave the A34 (currently suffering an attack of major road works) if it would just please get me home to a cup of tea and a loo.


Some hastily uploaded pics of Oxford.


And when I got home

If you look here, you will find the source of my proudmumness :) Notice...'a selection of the best' :)