Here comes the sun

It has been something of a trying week. I handed over £309 quid to a Well Known Computer Store for a netbook which was supposed to be the next generation model from the small but pefectly formed and really rather nippy beast owned by PB. What I got was a laptop with the speed of Ernie the Eel in the 100m custard challenge. It has been many years since my automatic reaction to starting a programme was been to wander off and make a cup of tea while it struggled to reach launch speed ("Yes, that's what my primary school teacher used to tell us to do," said the remarkably trusting youth in John Lewis. He does still have the use of both legs, but it was a close-run thing). After a trip back to the Well-Known-Store, with PB as back-up, I now have the actual machine that I thought I was buying a week ago. Haven't dared plug it in yet, though - can't face the disappointment.

However, all this was behind me on Tuesday morning, when, with 20 minutes to kill before the opening of the rather splendid "Yarn on the Square" (I was lurking with the intent of being the first person through the door ready to fall on my knees in delight at that massive rarity, a wool shop that actually sells wool...but that's a different blog) I found myself in a small caff with a cup of coffee and a sausage-and-egg bap. The sausage is my morning filling of choice when out on Ruby (a fact gleefully pointed out by Graham when I was in the queue for one of JD's bacon sarnies) and this was a perfect example of the art - sausages sliced lengthwise, egg balanced in the middle, underside free from charcoal and yolk perfectly poised between liquid and solid. For a moment, squinting in the sun and burning my tongue on the instant coffee, I could have fooled myself into believing that Ruby was parked outside the window with Robin Hood bay behind her, waiting for the final push across the border.

It's time to go travelling again!