mostly david ephgrave

On my way back from the Chiropractor today, I walked past some street eggs. Street eggs. I don’t think I’ve ever seen real street eggs before in real life, though I did once see some street carrots. I’ve spotted a single maraca and a kit for a perfect night out in Bath, but never a single egg. My run-ins with street food have been surprisingly few, which is a shame, as there’s nothing like an edible mystery to keep things interesting. A night out in Bat. Street carrots. My visit to the chiropractor was a little painful, but it was worth it, if only to release my locked shoulder a bit. He’s suggested I go in once a week until I go to Edinburgh, in that hope that we can take control of it and stop it being a big problem before I go away, and I trust him implicitly with it. He’s excellent at his job and has helped me countless times in the past, so there’s no reason this should be any different. Outside of medical appointments and run in with some Chic...