Mining for cream

A beautiful day for a walk around the cliffs with my young doctor friend.

It just so happens that Fortes ice cream parlour was at the other end of the cliff path, at Limeslade, so it would have been rude not to indulge. And since the day before I'd had my mouth in shape for a North Pole.

When I was growing up in the village my treat was an ice cream from Fortes - the original shop that is, as seen here in a painting in the Limeslade café.

As a child a knickerbocker glory was way beyond what my family could afford so my special treat was a North Pole. For those unfamiliar it's basically two wafers on top of each other with extra cream and raspberry sauce. 

This time I was even asked if I wanted chocolate or nut sprinkles! Delicious - but tricky to eat without it all flying out of the dish. I had to work my way in underneath like a little ice cream miner.

Every conversation with my friend causes me more and more anxiety about the state of the NHS. Thank goodness for the wonderful doctors and nurses who remain and battle on against the odds.

Back home then to practise my talk for this evening. The anxiety one if you recall. The success of an evening very much depends on 'audience participation' so I'm hoping there will be something in there that will get them talking. If only the fact that I say that Jesus spends a whole paragraph talking about anxiety while he never mentions homosexuality.