Walking on Broken Glass!

So we’re cooking. BBQ is going well, home made chippies are in the oven, salad prepared. Simon is reaching for the Gin ( no changes there!!), I’m reaching for the croutons. We’re both therefore in the galley. When ‘BANG’ goes something and there’s glass all over the floor and my foot, hot glass, loads of it. Everything stops. Us I mean. Silence. Then we recover. Don’t move- says Simon ( I wasn’t!). What was it? Says I. I don’t know says Simon. He finds the dustpan and brush and starts sweeping it up. Eventually we work out that it was the inner door of the oven. Which might be a problem but can wait till after the gin and tonic!! Our chippies are still cooking. 

After a very nice dinner I carefully put my plate on the central table( outside on deck-  there’s a flap each side of the central bit that we put up when we eat), I carefully put my wine glass up on the centre ,  then lower the flap- crash!! More glass. This is only about an hour later. My lovely cut glass gin glass that I brought with me from home  and insist it’s kept in bubble wrap, as I’m so fussy- broken. I swore – a lot. I didn’t see it on the table in the dusky gloom! More swearing! How am I going to manage without it for the rest of the year? I need to come home NOW!!

Simon says ‘ thank goodness it wasn’t me that broke it’!!

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