It's a food parcel, and not just any old food parcel either. No Camilla not a Fortnum's hamper, although that would be very nice, but packets of Sainsbury's Red Label tea bags, a catering sized hunk of the very best and strongest mature Cheddar cheese in the whole of Christendom .....
.... and, best of all, the icing on my cake - HOT CROSSED BUNS! A stash of them which are currently tucked safely away in my freezer side by side with packs of dog meat and some other stuff most of which lacks labels and should possibly carry a health warning. There's certainly no way of knowing when to eat by! Another walk on the wild side coming up I fear.
I digress and here my little tale becomes rather poignant - I have no butter to spread on them and so I shall have to wait until Tuesday when I shop at Leclerc (quick advert) in order to purchase some. So until then, rather like Mouche being made to wait with a biscuit in front of her, I must do the same in a hot, crossed sort of a way.
Thanks must go to the intrepid husband and wife team of anthropologists who ventured so far into la France profonde bearing gifts for the natives of the Loire Valley and also to M&S (another advert in the hope they will send me something as a token of their appreciation) who have had the amazing foresight and ability to spot a gap in the market by selling Hot Crossed Buns all year round and not just for a brief few glorious, heady, spice-filled days at Easter.
And so here endeth today's bit of old nonesense from the chateau with me trying not to salivate too much and with, once again, nothing in the way of sewing chit chat. The nearest we've got this week is the X on my buns! No wonder the number of blog followers remains static.
Now where do you suppose I can find a supply of proper Scotch eggs?