Knickerbocker Day

3 things that remind me of summer:

The seaside, Weymouth and knickerbocker glories.

I haven’t seen the sea in ten years, and Weymouth was hit by an N-bomb six months into the war.

But I still have my knickerbocker glories. I made sure the bunker was filled with enough tinned fruit, meringue and syrup to keep me going for ages.

Sunday is Knickerbocker Day.

My neighbours thought I was mad, giving up tinned-bean space. From the radio silence, I’m guessing they’ve ended it now.

I can’t believe I’ll be rescued, either. But getting to next Sunday… that I can do.

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In the last story, I mentioned a huge cyclopean ginger tom. His name is Gizmo, and here’s a picture: