I’m sorry to say that people often aren’t my first priority, so I am continually surprised when I decide to notice them.

Today I walked into town to buy some onions and carrots to make a risotto. In front of me in the queue was a middle-aged man. He looked like Ronnie Corbett. On the checkout were a small tin of mushy peas, a single-serving pork pie, and three large bottles of beer. Dinner and intoxication for one? Perhaps. But on the fourth finger of his paying hand was a wedding ring.

Fuck. I have a lot to learn.