Hobbit forming

Yesterday we travelled to the wilds of Shropshire to christen a "Hobbit Hut". Now until yesterday I thought that might be an industry standard term, but it turns out that it is a name given to a BBQ Hut by C who, with S, have bought and installed (if S is to be believed, entirely under his own steam) in their back garden.

And quite magnificent it is too

It was, or at least felt like, the hottest day of the year, so the all-weatherness of the hut were a bit redundant. In fact it was 36 degrees inside where S was preparing the meaty meatiness. There were lots of jokes about plunge pools, and nakedness, and birch twigs. I'd like to go back in the autumn or winter and give it a proper go.

Other than that it was a right good afternoon of good food and good company.

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On the way back we came under the airport tunnels just as a monster Emirates plane trundled over the top. What a treat.

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On the way I saw a sign warning "Factory Turning" and when we got there it was a Bread Factory... No matter how big it is, I think it should always be called a bakery. Surely bread must always come from a bakery, no matter it's size..

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We were richly entertained by BBC R4 Desert Island Discs on the way yesterday. The castaway was Tom Hanks. What a nice man. What an interesting man. Find it on iPlayer if you haven't heard it.

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Irrelevant picture of a cat on a chair: