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.
Ahh, those commission bidders. Hope the Sage has prudent success on Wednesday. We’ve just had a thunderstorm and rain so perhaps you may be able to blog…
I’m really quite glad it’s raining at the moment, which my garden is greedily drinking up. Yesterday evening I spent some time and effort (still, it’s cheaper than going to the gymn) bucketting my bath water downstairs to water the plants
Bummer about the diary. Fingers crossed someone will hand it in.
There is a gentle pitty-pat of raindrops on the roof at the moment, so hopefully you won’t have to do too much watering.
I didn’t do any watering because Al had kindly done it for me. But I was tired out and went to bed. Sorry.
A light shower this morning, but it’s hardly wetted the ground and won’t actually do any good. But the greenhouse may be okay for the morning – in hot weather the pots need watering twice a day, though at least that means the water goes where it’s needed;
Are there photos of you and the Sage beetling off? Do you do it on all fours? How do you manage revolving doors?
All sixes (and sevens), darling. And we rely on automatic doors.
Actually, Z is not my real name. I’m really called Archy – the wonders of the caps lock mean that I can manage capital letters.
Sounds like a fine adventure with mystery and intrigue.