We have had a very jolly evening. The family next door was out in our garden (they have a fenced-off garden for safety, with young children, but our garden is theirs) this evening when the Sage had a phone call to say that the front field was to be fertilised in a short while, so we all strolled across it to unlock the gate, Later, we watched the tractor squirting out the liquid feed from its hindermost parts. Dilly said that they were planning to have a Thai takeaway for tea, and would we like to join them? – which wasn’t an invitation that took long to answer. I took through a bottle of wine and we had a very cheerful evening.
Earlier in the day, I had been chatting to Al and he said that he’d asked Squiffany what was her best present. Pugsley confidently answered for her, her scooter, but she wasn’t so sure. “I really like my scooter, but I think my gardening tools are best. They are real tools, not toys.” I’d been unsure about their thrill-value, so I’m extremely happy to hear that.
The Sage is still happily chatting to Al, and Dilly has fallen asleep (she’s seven months pregnant, bear in mind) on the sofa, so I’ve come back through to say hello to you.
This weekend, Ro and his friend Zain will be in Brussels. They both have some holiday to use up before the end of the month so will go for a very sober jolly – Zain being teetotal and Ro unbothered by the prospect of sobriety. Weeza and Phil are visiting Phil’s parents in the Midlands for his mum’s birthday. I’m not sure what they’re planning next door, we haven’t got particular plans either. Pretending to garden, I daresay. Next weekend, it’s both Weeza and Al’s birthdays. Having started on present-buying, I smugly believe I’m sorted, but I’m not. Only a few bits and pieces. We’re all meeting up at a restaurant between here and Norwich on the Sunday, in between the two birthdays, for a jolly – on Mothering Sunday, so four of the eight of us will be in receipt of pampering.