Not unlike Ray Milland, I'm blind to all but a tenth of the universe. Or rather, it's me eyes, doc. Had a test, failed to spot the blinking white lights, got referred, then a trip to Moorfields, an MRI, etc. Doesn't remotely affect me except the constant banging into things. Didn't see that coming.

Seemed convenient, then, after a late morning 'ozzy appointment, to try and find a venue nearby. Cue CC's just off the Foxhall Road and Heath Road roundabout, that one with the year-round fireworks and the post office that doubles as a toy shop. Classy etched lettering on their window reads:

sandwiches | rolls | pies | crisps | sweets | drinks

Conveniently there's a table, thus qualifying CC's for a visit. Gotta be able to sit, you know. For the second week running, Kev and Andy have beaten me to it. Salad plates are being consumed. Freshly made tuna bap for me, thanks. Local bread, local produce, all rather lush. Bizarrely we're surrounded by Mother's Day items on all sides: it's a gift shopping extravaganza all this week, says the sign. Treat your mum!

Unlike us weirdos, folk are pulling up and popping off all the time with their savoury bagged items. They're on to a good thing. Good velvet cupcake and an excellent cuppa coffee to finish, and we're done. Point me home, chaps!

If it was a car -- Volkswagen CC.
If they were passing by -- Chevy Chase.