Cometh the Bee Inspector

I was over in the Newmarket when the Bee Inspector arrived. He’d gone by the time I got back. I put in a call to find the outcome and couldn’t get a reply. Then a serious looking email arrived from FERA with all the hard edged detail about notifiable diseases. With nothing else to do we set off for the river with the gleanings from the fridge and sat on the boat to watch the sun go down.  Finally when the call from Patrick to say we’d been given the all-clear we drank a toast with the last knockings of the wine in our chunky china mugs.

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