Z prepares for a houseful, and goes to a nursery

Friday night will be lovely, because we will have a houseful of people staying.  Weeza, Phil and Zerlina, Weeza’s friend Susie, I hope (yet to be confirmed) – Susie’s family has been friendly with ours for more than a century and my father was best man at her grandfather’s wedding – and Pugsley and Squiffany.  The three children will share a room.

What I like best is when there are lots of people to feed and look after.  Our dining table seats 12, though I have never quite forgiven the Sage for, when it was being made, changing his mind and having it 6 inches narrower than we’d agreed (without mentioning to me) because he thought it would make the proportions better.  I daresay it does, it’s a lovely table, but the reason we’d decided on 4′ wide was to seat 2 people comfortably at each end.  Now it’s a squash.  In fact, the dining room is out of bounds at present so we’ll have to have Friday night dinner at the kitchen table.  The children will be in bed by then but – again it’ll be a squash – Al and Dilly are joining us so there will be 7.  If Ro and Dora announce they are coming over, I’ll have to add another little table at the end.

Anyway, in preparation for all this we changed all the beds today.  I asked the Sage for help because of my bad back, but also it’s good for him.  The phone rang part-way through it all and it was a call for me, and I needed to come downstairs and consult the computer.  The Sage followed me.  “did you finish the bed?” I asked.  “No, I didn’t know where the things were kept, I brought down the linen to be washed,” he replied.  I went back upstairs and showed him that the sheet was folded on the bed and the pillowcases on the pillows.  On the bed.  Hm.

We did the photographs for the catalogue this afternoon.  It was nearly raining, but I put on a coat.  Still staying with the sandals though, not intending to give them up before I must.  We’ve just been doing some alterations to the catalogue this evening, there were a few prices to be changed (sometimes, vendors are over-optimistic, but the Sage has persuaded them down a bit).  He’s also changed around the order of a few lots.  I’ve had to print a copy out and send him to alter it, because my tired eyes don’t want to fiddle around while he changes his mind again.

Dilly and I went to a lovely plant nursery this morning, which specialises in fruit, particularly peaches and similar, figs, grapes and citrus fruit.  She and Al want to buy me a peach tree for my birthday.  We’re not actually ready to plant it yet, so will probably get it delivered in the spring when I’ve prepared the soil.

14 comments on “Z prepares for a houseful, and goes to a nursery

  1. Dave

    I must be slow this morning (I blame the drugs) but it wasn’t until I was halfway through your post that I realised why you might have a housefull this weekend.

  2. Z

    Dearest Dave, I appreciate you remembering everything about me, but I don’t expect it.

    No jury of 12 good women and true would have convicted, Rog. It still rankles, over 20 years on. I’d have minded less if it hadn’t been for the long conversations we’d had on the subject before our decision before changing his mind. I didn’t find out until the table was delivered. He maybe thought I wouldn’t notice.

    Goodness, thanks AQ – I had to read it again to see it.

  3. 63mago

    “The street wear for the street smart speaks”

    Yauza. Does anybody want to hear what street smart’s street wear has to say? I’m sure it’s screaming.

  4. Mike and Ann

    An old uncle of Ann’s grew peaches in Norfolk against the South facing old red brick wall of his stable yard. The tree was fan trained (not over formally), and he’d pick off enough of the young peaches so that about thirty ripened every year. They were the best peaches I ever tasted. I don’t remember the variety, but they were white fleshed.
    Good luck with yours. Mike and Ann.
    P.s. Come to think of it, he wasn’t in Norfolk -wrong side of the Croft river- he was in the Isle of Ely, Cambridgeshire now.

  5. Rate My Sausage

    Huge family meals around mis-matched tables provide wonderful memories. I hope you will have a good proportion of odd seating too, with a couple of random stools and a laundry basket.

  6. Z

    It’s odd that exactly similar spam gets caught by the filter most of the time. I’d have thought it was obviously an ad.

    It’ll have to be trained, certainly – the peach, that is. There isn’t room for it to grow naturally.

    There will only be 6 or 7 of us for dinner, Simon. I’m sorry to admit that I have 10 dining chairs, I agree that mis-matched seating is far more engaging.


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