I was quietly sitting on the balcony enjoying a glass of port and the view, with a Cuban* stuck in my gob, when I heard the dulcet tones of the terrible Goddess emanating from the kitchen.



“I’ve bought a cucumber”.

Now, was this a promise or a threat? (Well, there ain’t no promises here, my dear……… Lo,TG Ed)



Sliced cucumber left to soak in vinegar and then lovingly placed between slices of very thinly sliced brown bread [the crusts must be cut off], lightly buttered, with a soupcon of pepper, is an English delight that can rival any cuisine du monde.

On the other hand, a cucumber in it’s entirety, could be used as an axis of evil and be placed in such a position as to cause acute discomfort.

From past experience I have learnt not to worry, as the expected rarely happens and the unexpected, often.

But then on the other hand …………...


(*I refuse to rise to this. Lo,TG Ed)