We’ve had a very jolly day in London, except that disaster struck for the Sage when he left his diary on the train. He put it in his pocket but it must have dropped out. We’ll ask at Lost Property of course but hopes are not high.
Otherwise (in an “apart from that, Mrs Lincoln…” way), the day has been splendid. When I’m home, I’ll put up a link to the sale and tell you the pieces I covet most – some of the most expensive, of course.
We viewed the sale and then beetled off for a while for startlingly expensive drinks and then returned for the invitees-only view, where I was plied with much wine and delicious canapés and chatted to charming people. The Sage will return on Wednesday for the sale.
You may receive more information when I arrive home, but doing the watering and stuff may take too much time.
Sadly, I ordered the last two hot bacon rolls on the train, leaving none for the tanked-up chap on his way home from Monaco. He told me the chocolate muffin wasn’t all that. Actually, it was quite toothsome.
Laters, darlings. Possibly.