The perfect 600

Mirinda had book group today. The latest read was a load of very old magazines from the late 18th century. She was really looking forward to going to a meeting with actual people rather than via Zoom. So, having read what she had to read, then having taken a lateral flow test to ascertain her health worthiness, she drove off to Alton.

In the meanwhilst, I took the girls up to the park.

I can’t remember the last time I was up at the Avenue of Trees. I’m sure it was before we went to Sweden which means it was at least a year ago.

However long ago it was, the Avenue looked lovely and verdant. It helped that the day was bright and sunny of course but, also, I rather enjoyed the familiarity. And the other dogs. There were quite a few dogs wandering around, enjoying the world. Most of their owners were too busy on phones to notice how beautiful everything looked. So, it was all very normal.

Not so normal was what happened at the fish counter at Waitrose.

Whenever I roast salmon, I like to get 600 grams. This is not always possible because they don’t always have salmon at the counter. The pre-wrapped, pre-cut pieces are only 500 grams. Anyway, this morning there were a number of beautiful pieces of wild salmon ready for the cutting.

I asked the man behind the counter for 600 grams. He took a slab of fish out, guessed roughly with a knife and sliced through. He put the fish on the scales. It was EXACTLY 600 grams.

The pair of us burst into laughter; the laughter of disbelief. It was an astounding moment in fish weight estimation.

Back at home, I started the process of making my Christmas cake for this year. This involved soaking the fruit. Tomorrow I shall mix and cook it. The house will smell a bit incredible for most of the day tomorrow.

Today, however, there was the smell of disappointment about the house. When I returned from walking the girls in the park, I was surprised to see Max in the drive. And Mirinda in the library. When I asked why, she said that Book Group had been cancelled, but she’d missed the email. She’d driven to Chawton and walked up the drive only to be turned away at the front door.

While Mirinda was not sure whether to feel pissed off or upset, the girls were delighted with their day. Not only did I take them for a walk in the park but, a little later, they were given a second outing to Crondall.

Emma was particularly worn out following a rigorous run around with the Flicka-Stik and tennis ball.

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