A fork makes the perfect comb

We arrived at Snape Maltings for the the Buddhist chanting proms earlyish - given that we were already in Aldeburgh and there seemed little point driving back home cos mum would have to come pretty much straight out again. Our main problem was that mum felt she couldn't possibly go out looking the way she did after a day hanging about on the beach. I had another cardigan I could lend her although it was a bit screwed up, and she already had another pair of shoes kicking about the van left from the day we went to Norwich to see probably the worst ever exhibition at the Art School. The top was a problem tho' - earlier in the day one of the straps had pinged off and with no needle or safety pins mum had just tied it to her bra strap which had done the job of keeping the top up. There was also the cleavage – this was a problem for mum due to her perception of it in conjunction with her age. It was one thing wearing a scanty top at home but quite something else to be showing the Buddhists her cleavage at the proms. All was made right quite simply by placing my purple scarf over the cleavage and the wayward beach hair was tamed by using a fork from the salad we'd made on the beach earlier as a makeshift comb. All happy, we went off to find Ute and her two sisters down by the Henry Moore sculpture in the reeds.