Uncle Hector's car

Some eleven years ago dear Uncle Hector drove back to his farm near Launceston in Cornwall (Cornovaglia in Italian, the only British county to have an Italian name) from a local Parish Council meeting, parked the car in the drive that leads down to the milking sheds and went inside, greeted Auntie Eileen, had a cup of tea, said he thought he'd go to bed, which he did and never got up again. Nice way to go really. Anyhoo, this is his car and it looks as if it has never been moved.

Blighty Today

Just back from a whirlwind visit to Devonshire to visit the last resting places of a variety of dead relatives, wonderful weather, gorgeous English countryside, great beer and wine and probably the best fish and chips I've ever eaten. Anyhoo, back in Italy where the weather is so British, damp and cold and miserable.
For reasons too complicated to go into here, I flew in and out of Birmingham and yesterday coming back it was almost deserted which was such an unexpected joy after the usual horrors of Gatwick or Thiefrow.
Some of you may be surprised that I did not take advantage of this heart-warming offer from the Yates's bar, but where is the indefinite article? It's Breakfast and a Pint.

 

God help us.