A necessary component of the
table decoration at my daughter’s fast-approaching wedding will be pine cones –
eighty-odd of them – which it is my responsibility to collect and customise for
their intended purpose; numbers garnered had been modest up to September but
during the LGH reunion walk in the Cheviots a couple of weeks ago I hit the
motherload near Hethpool, enabling me to pick up and stuff fifty into my
rucksack (while my oblivious companions continued ahead then waited twenty
minutes for me to appear again, speculating on the reason for my delay – call of
nature, boot malfunction, abduction by aliens, or heart attack, none of which
prompted them to consider coming to my rescue) which has brought stock to well
over target and will enable the weeding out of some poor samples and provide reserves
in case of errors in crafting.
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