This morning, I went to church and Andy apologised (it wasn’t necessary, of course) because Gill had been so upset (she wasn’t there, the family was coming for a lunchtime barbecue) and – they hadn’t checked emails. So I repeated our offer and it was accepted. Later, I dropped the church collection off to her (she’s church treasurer) and she accepted too and we hugged.
I know, it was on the cards from the start and I’m not surprised, but I was never going to count chickens and I’ve not thought of him as mine until the last few days, when I started to be unable to help it (and it was going to be incredibly hard to let him go as a result).
You know, I’ve said it all along, that my dog would find me, and I was right. If ever you are tempted to argue – well, do, dear hearts, that’s fine. But if I argue back, which I usually won’t, then you might as well concede at once, because I will be right. No, I should clarify that. If you’ve tried very hard to convince me and not succeeded, then there will be a good reason for it. I’m both logical and instinctive, a combination that’s hard to beat, because if one doesn’t get you, the other will. Fortunately, I’m also easy-going, so I rarely do argue … which brings me back to it being for a reason if I do.
Anyway, I digress. It’s not the only jolly good thing that’s happened today, although surely the most momentous. I cycled on into town after church, the Sage having gone ahead in the car, because the street was closed for one of the three annual markets, the garden one. The antiques market is held in July, the Christmas one in December. And we were so lucky with the weather! It was lovely – a light, pleasant breeze, warm air and sunshine. An unexpectedly perfect spring day. Accordingly, everyone was there, it was really crowded and I had to be patient, getting through the throng with my bike. The Sage bought me a roast pork roll from John’s hog roast and I started buying. Not having grown anything at all from seed this year, only the second year in about the last 38, I seem to be seedling-starved. I bought lettuce, peas, courgettes, runner beans, butternut squash, spinach, more lettuce, tomatoes, chillies, sweet peas, morning glory, verbena – oh, various flowers, but it’s veggies that are close to my heart (in the sense that my stomach is…). And I bought a lemon sponge cake, some pelargoniums and, with the last of my money, an ice cream cone. The Sage had taken the first batch of plants home in the car, but my panniers and handlebars were laden again, so I strolled for half a mile, eating icecream and pushing the bike, until my hands were free and I carefully rode the rest of the way.
It has always been my intention to let Ben run free so, having checked that no chickens had flown the coop, I let him out. I followed him around the fields for a slightly anxious half hour until he decided to come back again, and then he ran round the garden happily while Al and Dilly helped fill the skip. There were a couple of big pieces that I had left room for yesterday, then we in-filled. And then I weeded the little beds, hardly 4 feet square, that I was going to plant with vegetables and then we had tea and cake. And then I spent an hour potting up plants, forty of them. So I feel that I’m getting back to my normal way of life.
By the time I’d finished, it was 6 o’clock, so I opened a bottle of Prosecco that happened to be in the fridge and we drank that and munched Twiglets. Ben likes Twiglets.
I think I’ll sleep well tonight, but who’s to say? Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t. But I’m quite cheery tonight, and so is the Sage.
Oh, and he had bought himself a ticket to the theatre – well, it’s a film of a theatre performance – tomorrow, to my puzzlement because he doesn’t like that sort of thing, and he asked if I’d like to go too. So I said yes, because I do and, while we were buying my ticket, I asked if the Othello ones were on sale yet. And they were – the Othello that’s on in London at present, getting such fantastic reviews and is pretty well sold out, is having a film made of a live performance and it’s on here in September. And the tickets weren’t available last week, and now they are. So I’ve got mine. The Sage doesn’t want to come, he isn’t keen on Shakespeare (I married this man? I never thought to ask, darlings, it never occurred to me), but I’m very happy.