Oh No!

What might have been. With HL's application of photoshop, it is plain to see the devastating effects of yesterday's hurried mistake could have wrought.

I did fear for my hair yesterday after mistaking the can of spray mount for that of hair lacquer as they sat side by side on my desk. For the rest of the afternoon, my hair was an immobile helmet with no amount of wind ruffling a single strand, while I wondered how to remove the sticky mess without losing my barnet into the bargain.Trying to force a comb through it was a spectacular failure.

In the end I did the sensible thing and gave my hair a very intense shampoo, and lo and behold, I got rid of the offending stickiness and my golden tresses were restored to their natural splendour.
It does make me wonder what harsh ingredients are in a normal shampoo that it can do to spray mount what water alone cannot.

With my incredibly clean hair, His Lordship and I  sauntered forth this morning to a prematurely springlike day; no scarves or gloves required and only a light jacket.
The Meadows' crocuses, which had been struggling to produce any sort of show, had decided overnight that their yellow brethren should be the first to dazzle in the sunshine.

The original land of toast beckoned at the end of the saunter, and while HL did the full honours, I was given one of his  crusts to gnaw, which satisfied me in the virtuous way I have described before.
Doug, the patron, presented us with a 2lb jar of homemade marmalade to take home.
HL has everything to play for since any kind of confiture is off limits to me as I waste away to the thin woman inside me.

Maybe my brother sees a sibling likeness in the second image.... or not!