Craic On

Last Saturday I got home to find the milk was off and the cheese I thought might last the course of my absence, was now cultivating penicillin. There was nothing for it but to head to the market on a dreary afternoon when I’d much prefer to have been listening to my book in front of the fire. Luck, it seemed, was on my side. Just as I reached the bus stop I heard the bus creeping up behind me so I took advantage of its comforts and climbed aboard. As soon as I got off the bus I went to buy tea. Then my luck turned. As I came out of the tea shop I was conscious of a small woman in an oversized khaki coat with a woolly hat pulled down low. I went to the next shop and bought Easter eggs. There she was again, silently watching as the contents of my purse exploded onto the unsuspecting cashier. Next I went to the charity shop because I have a sort of professional addiction to charity shops. I made my slow progression round the shop, nose to label so to speak and went to leave. There she was again. This ti