I received a sign the other day that it was okay to eat sausages. I'd been querying them as Becky Sunshine's Granny calls them little parcels of surprises. And I don't really like risks, David Haddrell.
However, when I bought my potatoes to mash, one reached out to me in the form of the mark of Harry Potter! I felt like it was saying to me 'trust in the unknown, even though these sausages are only 64% meat, the rest of it isn't necessarily bad.'
Adventure panic over I fried up the saus saus, and ate them with mash, cider gravy again, and a bed of greens. Ever so warming. Then I watched an entire box set of Teachers as if I was in possession of Hermione's Time Turner and could seek solace in 1999.
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