Lunch is Served

Cheese, bread and soup ready for youngest daughter up from Yorkshire on a flying visit.
If she arrives promptly she might catch a bit of blue sky, the first we've seen for 15 days.
But let's not talk about the weather or trams. Instead let's talk about cakes: lots of cakes: cakes and scones all baked yesterday morning to fatten up the ladies of our select tea party yesterday afternoon by the doyenne of baking skills in the club.

I felt very pleased with myself in limiting my intake to a scone and small piece of tiffin cake and even more pleased that I managed to visit the land of flowers this morning and not have a cake or even a cup of coffee since the queue of the elderly, from two tourist buses, was enough to put off all but the desperate. Not us then. The farm shop got our custom today.

Edit: The daughter has been and gone, as has his Lordship, the cheese and the blue sky.
I am left to watch and wonder at the Tour de France cyclists on the 11th stage as they climb the mountains almost faster than I can manage on the flat. Superb athletes.

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