Iola, Lentil Dhal, Stolen Sweet Pastry, and a deflated Custard Tart

It's going a missmash of a blog today.

A missmash sort of day it has been

Yola's Father I.P.Jones

This morning two ambling figures were spied walking back from the old shop along London Road. Both were pushing those strange looking mixtures of zimmer frane and shopping trolley, so their progress was incredibly slow and deliberate.
I crossed the road to say hello and strange as it sounds also a final goodbye for the couple are due to leave Trelawnyd very soon.
I first met the Endres when I was collecting information on the History of the village.
( see http://trelawnydhistory.blogspot.co.uk/2011/06/mrs-iola-endres-nee-jones.html)
 Iola Endres is one of the last of Trelawnyd's Royalty still living in the village. She ran the village shop as her father had done for many years and knows the history of the place inside and out. Now, after a period of ill health her and her husband are off to live near her daughter in Manchester.
I wished them well, but it wasnt a happy encounter.
Back home I made a lentil dahl for supper

Then made a batch of sweet pastry , half of which was stolen from the kitchen table by Meg. Who is now sleeping it off on the living room arm chair
No doubt we are now in for a night of THE SHITS!

Meg nursing a dickey tummy

I made another batch in a rush in order to bang out a custard tart
But the effing thing leaked in the oven , leaving a tart only 4 mm thick!
I salvaged two wafer thin wedges and later will take them up to my friend Bob ( the ex poultry farmer who taught me how to " neck" a  chicken) who has just come out of hospital.
Mind you, looking at the state of the slices , I'm not sure I'll bother

Oh the shame!

They look as though Ive sat my arse on em