In pieces

 It is annoying when I break something.  It is even more annoying when I break part of something.  And it is infuriating when it is an item I really like. It may be just an old brown teapot to others, but for me it is a reminder of my late father-in-law who liked teapots that didn't drip, sitting on the verandah after school, welcoming visitors, and the memorable time my toddler stuffed a crayon down the spout and I served my mother-in-law's friend melted wax-tea.

This morning the errands had mounted up, so I braved the aftermath of Storm Ellen and was in town by 9.15...and home by 10am. Going in early does not just mean less people, which is important,  but also time for shopkeepers to chat, which is about all the socialising I do these days. I am very thankful for them too, a touch of normality in this mad world.