The oven packing up was a minor inconvenience. My tumble in the street is still bothering me ten days on. And last Tuesday we came down to find water dripping from the hall ceiling. Again. We had a new hot water cylinder fitted barely three years ago, and the bugger was leaking already. Anyway, the Taylor twins have fitted a new stainless steel cylinder which should, they assure us, see us out. Famous last words. Plasterer comes tomorrow, then we have to decide whether to repaint the ceiling ourselves or GSI.
Well, the fettled oven did its job yesterday, roasting a chicken for our lunch with Marion and Derry, and some amuse-bouche with the aperitifs. Palmiers with red pesto and prosciutto: our usual ones use garlicky cream cheese and smoked salmon, but Marion can’t eat fish. Nice afternoon in good company. We have been dining since then on the leftovers!
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