So blog friends have decreed that I’m to carry on with the alphabeta, and who am I to argue? Since, that is, there have been no dissenting voices, which probably means that the rest of you don’t read the post titles anyway.
I’ve been left by my husband again, flighty chap that he is. I can hardly believe that he hasn’t gone on holiday with me for years and years – well over a decade, I can’t remember how long. We went, the Sage, Al, Ro and I, to visit the West Country and stayed with Wink. The night before we were due to come home, we’d been out for dinner and he hadn’t had any wine. I thought that was slightly unusual, but the reason became apparent when he suddenly said that we’d better drive home that night rather than risk heavy traffic the next day. I argued (next day was a Sunday, how much heavy traffic was likely, and I didn’t want to go home anyway, it was when things were at their most difficult back there) to no avail and we got home at 3 in the morning.
Anyway, he phoned this evening sounding very cheerful. He’s very pleased with the china he’s picked up for the next sale and he’s fetching more tomorrow. He’s already got enough booked in for the next sale and the sale after is more than half full.
Instructions left were to give the chickens the bunches of grapes he’d left in a crystal bowl for their lunch.
So, darlings, it’s up to you to keep me my normal happy self. Or I might turn to the Demon Bottle. *Ahem* I might turn to ice cream and chocolate. I should mention that I fully intend to have one or the other tonight. Which shall I have?