My cauliflower soup has failed... at least, there is soup, and its edible. It just doesn't taste very nice. Did another shopping trip to Waitrose, and found a disabled parking space, and so was able to get in the basics.
My big dilemma? What to do with the other half of the cauliflower? Philosophers have written books about such problems... well, no they haven't. But their books might be a lot more useful if they had. The would also of course be in the Cookery section in the Library and not on the Great Thoughts shelf.
The pain in my ankles has subsided, to be replaced - moan moan whinge whinge - by various other pains, all competing fiercely with the pain in my knew knees.
What was that joke the family branch in Oz told about us Whingeing Poms?
"How can you tell when a planeload of Poms has landed?"
"I don't know. How can you tell?"
"The whining goes after the engine has stopped."