The Centre of Attention

Can you believe it? Here I was, after an arduous day of resting the leg by pushing a trolley round Waitrose, a Dyson round the gaff and the maw round Harrison Park, relaxing down the gardens with an iced coffee when I was approached to be photographed and recorded. Dwalletta, I cried, why didn't you give me advance notice? I could have looked out my best jacket. But they spoke back in Finnish. How strange.