Getting to Gosford this time was a long comedy of errors. Three weeks later, two bouts of sickness, a call to the NRMA[1] and two wrong turns and we finally made it.
Today at lunch we stopped in a cute little “gourmet” deli. Mum asked to share a meat pie with Aunty Rae. This put the staff at the deli into a tizzy because they couldn’t figure out how to cut the pie in half without making a mess. In the end they put the pie on one plate and let mum cut it herself. Clean cut. No mess. Not that it really mattered if there had been a mess. It does beg the question though: how poorly equipped for life would one have to be if one lacked the initiative to cut a pie in half?