October 21st 2018

Today I played golf and ate roast lamb — and as far as I’m concerned that’s a near perfect Sunday. And it was only near perfect because I didn’t win the round of golf. I’d blame my Dad for messing up the 18th hole and costing us the match, but truth be told he’d carried me for the previous 17 holes so I can’t have any complaints.


And when we got home, although Mum had joked that we weren’t allowed dinner if we lost the match, she’d cooked roast lamb. My lord, it was good. I mean, look:


And then, look again:


Jesus, that’s a proper Sunday roast. Cauliflower-cheese AND broccoli-cheese as well. (For what it’s worth, you’ll only ever find me eating cauliflower if it’s been baked in cheese. There are not many foods that aren’t improved by being baked in cheese. See also: broccoli)

Until tomorrow, as Sundays go, today’s was a pretty good one.


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