It’s a warm and comfortable place to be, under my toe. I told the Sage he has worked hard enough today, poured him a drink, given him a kiss and a dish of cheesy biscuits and assured him that we’ll get the catalogue ready to be printed by lunchtime tomorrow.
I’ve got to type up three pages of catalogue tonight and the rest in the morning, when he will be sufficiently rested to describe the china.
Is a couple of glasses of wine the best preparation for accurate typing? Of course it is. I might even add a few cheery asides (no I won’t, professionalism will come to the fore, as you might expect, knowing, for you know me very well, that I only pretend to be fluffy).
I can hear you (or is it just the Voices??) asking what the Sage has done, to be so tired? He and Al have been working on Squiffany’s climbing frame. Today, they put in the steps. They had already done the first floor, so Squiffany was invited to climb them. I didn’t see it, I was working in the greenhouse, but she was thrilled and excited. Lucky little girl that she is, to have her daddy and grandad take so much time and trouble for her. I think she will appreciate it more, seeing it go up bit by bit.
Anyway, I’m roasting a freerange chicken with potatoes, parsnips, sausages and cauliflower. All of them local. I’m a lucky girl too. Hah!
Oh, by the way, does a double-yolked egg, if left to hatch, produce two chicks or one confused one? I’ve never heard of twin chicks and Ro thinks that the production method of eggs doesn’t allow for two embryos to be implanted, even if there are two yolks. I ask because we had one this morning, the first I remember from any of our bantams, from one of the black pedigree girlies. It was a huge egg. The Sage says that she doesn’t lay all that often. If I were her, I’d resolve never to lay again. She’s just two years old, which is a few months older than commercial freerange egg producers keep them to.
Anyway, I’m off to flirt with the Sage. He deserves it.