Boy, does that kid look pissed off!
Today, I decided I needed a new pair of shoes. Of course, nothing remotely like a supplier of gentlemens' shoes exist here anymore - only the ladies are spoiled for expensive choice, so I betook myself almost down to Palma to buy a pair - shoes - and, coincidentally, break in the two new tyres I had bought yesterday (never rains but it pours) - and I thought it would be rather nice to get another pair like the ones I was wearing and, with luck, pick up a substantial woollen scarf so that I might wear it à la Leiter and, in so doing, improve my street art photography.
To my surprise, not only had the brand (of shoes) vanished, but the available range within the single alternative brand was somewhat garish, according to my taste guide, and so I hesitated, and wandered off looking for a sensible body warmer that could be worn beneath my regular rain-resistant (slightly) jacket, or even without it in spring, thus convincing myself of nature's best intentions regardless of present indications. As luck would have it, instead, I returned to the shoes and discovered that either my old feet have grown a size, or there is no longer such a thing as a common standard within the European Union which, I suppose, is not really surprising when you consider the disruption and stress going down over Brexit. With so much at stake, what's a little standard or two!
Anyway, when I was back on the motorway heading home, flashy shoes in the trunk, I realised that I had bought neither scarf nor body warmer. Some days are like that, but I guess I saved some money.
Rob