A lame excuse

[desperance]

If I had remembered that there are reasons why we love our mailman - if I had thought to check outside the back door and under the umbrella for parcels delivered while I was out, because of course he would think both of security and of protection from the rain - then this might not be the last loaf I may ever slash with a serrated blade. It might have been the first loaf I would ever slash with a baker's lame. Hey-ho.

(This is my lame: black walnut with brass knobs on knurled brass thumbnuts. I don't know why they don't picture it with a razor blade in situ, as they do supply the blades withal, but there you go. Real razor blades, too, like what my dad used to use to shave his face withal. I haven't seen the like for lo this many a year. And I have fitted one without catastrophe, so I'm happy. If only I had something to slash...)