It was true. Katie Kambridge was wearing the dress I bought for Tim’s party. But I wore it twelve days before she did, so I didn’t copy. I like my deep rose pink belt better than her white one. And I wore my pale pink stilettos that I had re-heeled specially. I also wore a necklace of rubies and sapphires (not good ones, darlings) that I bought in India on my first visit there. It was slightly fussy for the dress but I rarely have a chance to wear it and I’m very fond of it.
I’m back on another committee. I know, I know, sorry darlings, but needs must. Two Trustees are leaving the area and, whilst one of them is an ex-officio position, the other must be filled, and I used to be a Trustee, so I’m the obvious person. Only two meetings a year – admittedly I’ll be the secretary, but it’ll take 6 or 8 hours a year, tops. Of course, I’ve got a lot of reading to do before the first meeting to find out what’s been going on, but that meeting is in December, so it’ll be fine. Fine, honestly. Bum.
Preparations are well under way for tomorrow’s wedding, the marquee is up on the field and all. I took sandwiches to the bride’s father, who was waiting for a generator to arrive. The bar turned up, not instead but as a bonus. I’ve had my hair cut and I’m contemplating which dress to wear. I’m well turned out for dresses at present, I’ve got a choice of three. I’ll probably choose the shoes first and the dress after.
I’ll write a post about darling Huckleberry later, I expect, because I won’t write tomorrow. I might set it to publish tomorrow, but it’ll turn up in feed readers at once, so there’s not a lot of point.
This evening, to the pub. I probably won’t stay long enough to watch the opening ceremony there but, rather to my surprise, I find I rather do want to see it.