Turned out that Yorkshire Pudding is a a lump of crunchy bread, with gravy on top. I pretty much expected it to be like Snack Pack or maybe a Bill Cosby Pudding Pop, but no...it was just bread. It was hard, too. Hard as a rock, even with the gravy.
This head cold just won't go away. My hacking cough makes people keep their distance, though, which could be perceived as a good thing. Or a bad thing. Depending.
I'd spend the next two hours crouching and silent, waiting until just before moon-set when the last of the silver light cut between the ridge pines in long foot-wide stripes across the field.
This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.