There's no fish paste in the fridge!

Lil can have any tit bit she likes. Chicken. Lobster. Prawns. The world is her oyster for the next couple of months, not that she likes oysters. But Lil - bless her- has decided on fish paste sandwiches. Sardine and tomato!

Big Lil is getting bigger. But you can still feel her hip and shoulder bones. She still cries bloodstained tears which congeal on the end of her nose making her look permanently snotty. So no magic bullet those pills just improvement.

But the worse thing. Lil is no longer singing. There's no choir practice at three in the morning. No rendition of 'I am what I am.' No 'Bohemian Rhapsody' blasting out from the back of the sofa.

Anyway Susan has forgotten the fish paste. I know 'cos I looked in the carrier bag dumped in the hall. I also know that there's no fish paste in the fridge!

I also know the shops are about to shut. Plus I know Lil won't pill pop without the fish paste. Now if I'm very quick I should arrive at the 7-11 before it closes...
Ferdinand: and the bike ride