stuffed

On Sunday, TD and I visited my great-aunt and -uncle in Burgenland on occasion of great-uncle T.'s 82nd birthday. We were treated to lunch at a restaurant in the village next to theirs. We'd eaten there several times before but as we'd always sat in the big function room I'd never before noticed a particularly charming decorative feature, a stuffed St. Bernhard's dog perched on the tiled stove, its fur soaking up Schnitzel-fumes, cigarette smoke and other country restaurant smells. Yum, yum.

Lunch-break purchases: Summer sale at the Body Shop. Hurray!