I took an internet break, in the main, being on holiday.  You didn’t miss me too terribly much, darlings, did you?  Let’s see, what did I do?…

On Friday, I went to have coffee with Bod (see the side panel, if you’re puzzled) who is rather more constrained in his activities since his mother had an accident some three years ago and needs full-time care.  They’re both well, though and it was good to see them and have a chat.  Then to lunch in Shaftesbury with Wink and I did a bit of shopping afterwards and then headed back to Wink’s house.  I unlocked the door, unpacked my shopping, which took a few trips and there was a card on the mat saying there was a package to pick up at the Post Office.  I reckoned I’d do that for her, but wasn’t sure how large it was (I’d done as much the previous day and it was BIG) so decided to take the car. ‘I must remember to pick up the key again from the kitchen table,’ I thought.

Darlings, can I remind you, as if you need reminding, that thinking that you must do something isn’t quite the same as actually doing it?  I realised soon after shutting the door.  I went to the Post Office anyway and came back, thinking that some sort of miracle just might have happened and I hadn’t dropped the latch after all, or the window might be open or her neighbour might have a key.  If only I were Roman Catholic, miracles might happen – but no.  It was only 3 o’clock, so I decided to go back and borrow Wink’s.

Now, I thought I wouldn’t mention this and just give the impression I’d not picked up a key that morning.  But the temptation to tell a story against myself was too much – it’s always funnier that way, isn’t it?  More fun to be in the wrong than in the right, to give in gracefully than insist on being right, to laugh at yourself and feel people warm to you (look, darlings, I can always hope) and not be pompous – so I told the tale and laughed with Wink and her colleagues.  I hadn’t got any change for the car park so had popped into a shop for some tea – but there was a traffic warden, writing in his book.  I trotted up to him remorsefully.  “I didn’t have change, sorry…you’re going to give me a ticket, aren’t you?” The lovely young man said I was in time, if I bought a ticket straight away.  Hands trembling, i fished out my nice red leather purse (bought on holiday, I like a memento in daily use) and bought the ticket and brandished it.  He put away his book and I thanked him.  “You’re very kind.”  “No probs,” he said.

Frankly, had he not been there, would I have bought the ticket?  Um.  Probably, actually.  35p, worth not being in the wrong.

On Saturday, we went to see Dodo, who is now 101, still lives in her own home, has every one of her marbles counted and in place and still reads the paper (The Guardian and the Dorset Echo) and books (archy and mehitabel is a favourite) but is slightly deaf.  She can hear every word I say, however.  I’m good with deaf people, which is another way of saying I have a very carrying voice.  Wink and I love Dodo, we will be dreadfully sad when she dies.  When the time comes, I hope it will be sudden and not painful, so only a shock to her many friends and no distress to her.

On the way home, we called in at Lidl and I bought rye bread, smoked salmon and various other stuff for canapés (with thanks to BW, I now won’t bother with blini, though I do like making them it’s nice to save the time) and then I cooked a pheasant casserole for lunch the next day.  I insisted.  I’m still cooking compulsively, I don’t know when this will end.

On Sunday, Wink’s friends Bob and Elizabeth came for lunch.  They have both just had birthdays, I am not sure how far into their 90s they are, but they have also just had their 67th wedding anniversary.  They left after lunch and so did I.  A Sunday afternoon is one of the best times to travel – apart from a queue that allowed me to enjoy the view of Stonehenge, I travelled at the speed limit all the way home and the journey took less than four hours, which hasn’t happened for years.  And Russell cooked dinner, perfectly, which was jolly good.

Weeza’s in-laws are coming this weekend rather than Christmas, so we’re spending that day over there as well as this Sunday afternoon.  So sociable – marvellous.

Today, I’ve mostly been back down to earth.  An 8 am meeting lasted until 12.30, when I pleaded another appointment (a haircut and manicure, darlings, only my second manicure in my whole life) and then a governors’ training session on Raise online.  This is an acronym: Reporting and Analysis through School Self-Evaluation.  Yes, exactly.  Tonight, my brain is on life support.  I hoped for full recovery until I sneezed hugely several times.  Now, I’m wondering how many brain cells have wafted into the atmosphere, never to be recovered.  Forgetting that key – pfft.  I’ve got a terrible memory so have to be very careful.  It’s no good just accepting you forget or lose things, you have to resolve to do better, or it’s the start of a very slippery slope.  I don’t think I left anything behind this time…