Savage Myrtilles

I feel sure I’ve blipped this tart before. Not this actual one, obviously. This is Mr B and TallGirl’s fave: bilberry tart.

After a night of little sleep and many podcasts up and out to sort out the broken car.  Obviously all the neighbours were intrigued. The window-breaker himself came to apologise and, feeling generous, I let him off easy.  Now we just have to figure out if I'm driving Mr B to the airport tomorrow or just to the local station (which has more to do with the possible continuation of blockades than the fragility of a car without a back window).

Later, Mr B spotted my own fragility, suggested some good ideas, took over food production detail for the day, pushed me into my happy place to do some weeding*, and, after a suitable pause for me to be pretty near exhausted, appeared on the terrace with a bottle of fizz. It’s like he knows me.

* Weeding of the saw, axe, and tree lopper variety.

Later still, fab food, Interstellar (v long but v cool movie).

Tomorrow beckons with a number of things on my  to do list that exceed the possibilities of space and time.