Alas alack!

We set off, the Old Bat and I, yesterday afternoon - after I had walked the dog - to visit our favourite butcher. The OB had quite a list, as is usual, as we only visit about once  month. The butcher, whom we have been patronising for more years than I care to remember - at least 35 - is located in what is

epc.bwa-subway3.co.uk

called the Open Market.  It's really nothing of the sort - open, that is - because the various lock-up stalls are located around the edge of a covered space approximately half the size of a football pitch. There is an upper floor, to which we have never climbed. The Old Bat would have extreme difficulty in doing so anyway.

Anyway, I usually try to park in a small lay-by on the wrong side of the road. Despite the double yellow lines, there is usually as least one other car parked there - with no blue badge on display. At least I am legal as I display the OB's blue badge. We then potter through the entrance which is lined by various 'ethnic' and off-beat stalls. I never understand how they manage to make a living as I have never seen a customer at any of them.

And so into the heart of the market - where we see the butcher's stall firmly shuttered. Some months ago I had expressed doubts about his financial standing, and we were told by a near-by stallholder that the butcher had shut up as usual a week last Saturday but had not been seen since. Pity, that, as I shall miss his wonderful sausages.