This morning The Hound wounded himself in pursuit of a squirrel. He has spent the day showing off his grazes and moping around as though struck down by man flu. Currently reading this weeks OFM and watching RB's The restaurant on BBC2 he has decided a career in food might be a safer option. In an attempt to lift his mood, we ventured once more to The East. This time to meet a potato farmer, all muddy overalls, talk of Pipers and Romanos and offering bizarre beverages.
2 comments:
Poor Hound, hope he pulls through, you know what men are like when they're poorly...!
Sorry for being soooo nosy but why were you visiting a potato farmer when you don't like spuds...???
That though shall keep me pondering this afternoon..!
L x
P.S. have put a link to you over at PH.
The potato farmer wears many hats, we arrived to find him in his potato farming flat cap, which he removed and replaced with a natty straw boater.
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