Mr Dizzo and I have been apart for two weeks. I've been off to the Isle of Wight every weekend for the last four weeks selling art and Mr D has been over in France for 10 days looking after 18 cyclists on a charity bike ride. He arrived home this evening, and it was great to see him.
Especially when he tells me little gems like this :
'One night at the hotel, we were in the restaurant and I asked for the bill, and my French was so shit, they bought me a creme brulee.'
There's a picture of said creme brulee on his phone.