We’re back at our other home this week, otherwise known as Tim’s place.
Just now, I drained my wine glass. LT pointed out that there was none left. I directed my gaze fixedly at his glass …. and he recognised my look as an imitation of that of Eloise cat. Truly, it seems, no one knows me better. It’s a bit breathtaking, in its way.
Roses is holding the fort again while we’re away, with the aid of her other half, Lawrence. I’ve also roped in Wince, my gardener, to keep an eye on the greenhouse. I feel surrounded by kindness.
This afternoon, I introduced LT to the phrase “moist towelette.” He was as horrified as one might expect. It was his fault, however. He said “gusset.” Most awful words?