[Margaret Pilkington]

I was going to put a sprouted potato behind my door yesterday...we have not bought anything other than what we will eat in a week.
I bought a bag of wonky potatoes and was down to the last few....these were so wonky that I had to cut great chunks out of them because they were dinged and bruised.
In the end there was not enough for the evening mash....so I rummaged in the veg box praying to find just one more spud.
There it was at the back of the box......but, unusable because it had really sprouted.
So he had the mash with his steak and mushroom pie....and I didn't.


Today behind my door is sacrifice.
And my sacrifice of the mash is nothing like that of the key workers.