Normal service has been resumed. Now that Mr Smith is over his jet lag I no longer have to drag myself out of bed at the first glimpse of dawn and walk the dog or make my own early morning cuppa. The staff now do it. Mr Smith and the Apprentice are towing the line nicely once more and I am writing to you from my bed whence I am drinking sips of Earl Grey with a smelly dog at my feet - this is the life.
Yesterday's patchwork class was woefully disappointing with the teacher, MC, in a bait and the fellow students somewhat hostile. Yvonne the Racist had wanted to bring her friend but sadly the class was full - I had taken the last space which everyone knew- maybe I could sell it to her at a vast profit and make her sit next to black people ... and be nice to them. I opted for red fabrics that I thought would be bold and rather exciting but it actually resembled open heart surgery. Maybe next week's session will be jollier.
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