I mentioned Biggar last week, but I neglected to mention the little olde fashioned shop selling all the sweets from our childhood. Flying saucers! Cinder candy! We spent the best part of 10 minutes oohhh-ing and ahhhh-ing over the display. Cherry Lips! ABC Letters! What fun we had, and from the expression on the shop owner’s face we weren’t the first people to react that way and I got the feeling that half the fun of the shop was taken from watching people’s reactions.

Then a long distance memory dredged itself up from the deepest, darkest recesses of my brain, I turned to the shop keeper and asked: “Do you sell Chelsea Whoppers?”

Alas, she didn’t. The mood was soured slightly, we made a few purchases and left.

This morning the doorbell rang. A parcel was delivered.

Ain’t my wife just the best!

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Long time blogger, Father of Jack, geek of many things, random photographer and writer of nonsense.

Doing my best to find a balance.

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