Last night M-C rang to apologise for standing me up yesterday. I was mightily relieved of funeral duty actually but we would have had a nice lunch. She is in love ... with her husband. Burying his mother brought on a wave of emotion and he said lovely things to her and she feels appreciated and happy to burst.
Sensible Alison rang to moan about the awful cold she has caught from Unpresuming Ed. She sounded ready to die, poor lamb. I refused her kind invitation to tea until she's better and felt less guilty about having a Coven subcommittee meeting without her on Wednesday.
My friend Andrea is coming round to play this morning. Her husband has retired so she thought she'd follow suit then they found they had no dosh. In order to stop the usual dig from his elbow in the direction of employment in pursuit of a crust, she thought she'd come and do arty things with me. I made a perfect cupcake, thinking that would be a nice easy thing to paint and quite versatile in one's representation i.e. does one hint cupcake with a few slashes of the brush or paint every little hundred and thousand? The Apprentice ate it. I hate him.
Mr Smith has a whole weekend of non-stop golf and suggests the dog and I go to the seaside. Maybe, if the weather is glorious but there again perhaps I ought to pull on the Hunters, play the WAG and cheer on the golf.
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