Strawberries and cream

We walked past the end of Anne's garden today.

Of course it's not Anne's garden any more. The family moved away, it must be, six years ago now. But I haven't walked there for ages We only went there today because it seemed a gentle alternative to our usual haunts for Harvey's first excursion since his second funny turn last week.

I can't think of Anne without thinking of cheesecake.

One Autumn day we went for lunch at the Brasserie. They do good lunch deals so by the time we'd finished our starter and main courses we were full little tubbies and we declined pudding.

Instead we drove to a garden centre as Anne wanted some plants. At the entrance to the garden centre is a coffee shop and, as the medication Anne was on made her thirsty, we stopped there. In the chilled display cabinet was a thick golden-creamy cheesecake topped with bright red berries. We looked at each other.
'Well, I will if you will.'

When they brought our coffee and cheesecake we nearly had hysterics. Staring up at us were two of the largest slices of cheesecake this side of America.
Through her giggles, Anne said, 'That'll teach us to be little piggies.'

We both managed to clear our plates though. Just.

Then browsing through the plants afterwards we came across a red and white flowered house plant. We each bought one to remind us of the cheesecake.

I am notoriously bad with house plants but mine lasted slightly longer than Anne did. She died on the Christmas Eve.