Round up time

I need to get out more. Yesterday morning we parked up in Plymouth’s Drake Circus shopping mall and could have been walking out onto the promenade of Deep space Nine such was my disconnect. I most often shop at Ike Godsey’s. Our increasingly rare visits to the city tend to follow a familiar pattern whereby I assume the role of porter and general factotum whose principal attribute appears to be that of nodding enthusiastically whenever Mrs G. tries on an item of fashionable clothing. We always adjourn for a pick me up, to earwig and people watch and to follow the vessel movements in the marina, before venturing back to conduct whatever business it was that bought us to the metropolis. Today couldn’t have been more different. Not so much One Man and his Dog as two men and their pack. Butchers’ dogs ain’t in it. These animals are sleek in the extreme and have a seemingly insatiable appetite for graft. It can be grim on the moor in November but I still enjoy watching other people work.