
We all have these moments. Call them " Blonde ". " Senior ". Not to be confused with
accidents. I'm talking about those transient times when eye, hand and brain fleetingly lose all contact.
I eat stew. Every night. I make it in my slow cooker and ladle it onto my glass flan dish. On my tray. Bring it in here and nom nom nom.
Every night. Ye'd think I'd have got the hang of it, by now ....?
Other night, I came in here. Sat down and prepared to enjoy. Till, looking down at my lap I thought; " Hang on .....
Where's the fcuking Dish?!? "
What have You managed, AH?