Sailing to the Sales

Best Christmas present: New kitchen knives from my mother - with which to stab members of my family.
Worst: It's a toss up between the Coronation Street teapot and a pair of very beautiful white slippers in completely the wrong size..


Still feeling pretty unwell with a gloriously awful hacking cough that sounds like consumption, I was a bit fed up with staring at the four walls and an ugly teapot. Therefore I thought an outing for me and mother-in-law to the Sales was a grand idea. Mr Smith started with "There will be no bus service" followed by "The crowds will be insufferable" then "Nothing will be open before 12." Oh I am so pleased I never listen to a word he says. A bus arrived in a few minutes to whisk us to Westfield which opened at ten. We shopped spaciously with very few people, watched the ice skating, bought some bargains and tried on a tiny weeny beautiful red coat but it was just too small, got proper slippers to replace the cinderella sized ones Mr Smith had bought me and looked at all the expensive shops such as Gucci, Prada, Tiffany and Dior. We had a thoroughly excellent outing and didn't have to put up with any tutting or sighing from Mr Smith. I did feel pretty exhausted by the time we got home and I really did not aid my recovery from this awful germ by trudging round Shepherd's Bush on such a freezing cold day. However, I had a lovely time and proved Mr Smith wrong - Oh so happy.