The butchers in Field's Supermarket were more like Santa's elves , they were working with such jollity and eagerness; surrounded by spiced beef, game, loins of some creature or other... I could have watched them all morning. But I ordered my joint of venison and off I went. (My sister has a recipe for venison with chocolate sauce which may be the Chosen One).
Speaking of which, the Grand Master of Costumes is clearly the holder of all kinds of occult and arcane knowledge. My voice is worse today. Beyond husky-in-a-seductive way. At normal volume I sound like Darth Vader; loud becomes high-pitched in a Justin Timberlake kinda way; and whispering does a great Gollum. None of which are particularly Wildean.
Oh dear.
However, the good news is that a saviour has been born. Or brewed. Just savouring my first hot port of the season.
Bliss.
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