Dark and stormy

  The last thing I want is for you to feel short changed, but I've just arrived at the home of the Scoggis family who are kindly putting me up for the night before I spend the first part of tomorrow coaching a lady on the fine art of pulling a christmas dinner out of thin air without breaking a sweat, so I can't stay long.

  (Oh whew!, a brief respite while the menagerie of noisy floor crawlers are dunked in a bath. This should give me head space I need to type this out quickly.) I'm quite battered after a long week of early mornings at Falafel feast and I wanted to give you a bit of an update but I think I'll save until I've not got hosts to be civilised with.

My favourite seven year old.

  The glimpse of my week I shall give is that my fascist OCD side has been in full on organisation mode and the kitchen transformation is almost complete. There's more of the same ahead so the future looks bright.

  Encouragingly, not only will I spend tonight catching up with Scoggis senior and Mrs., who I never see enough of, but I brought a friend along who, at age seven, is just mature enough to be appropriate company for the evening.

  Tomorrow should be a blast too, and I'll tell you about that soon but for now, I've got a chin to wag and an elbow to exercise. 

Adios, muchacho!

Kirk out

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