I didn't get the photos done after all. Tomorrow. The ones for the catalogue have been taken, of which there are only a few, but everything is illustrated on the website and I've another day or two in hand for that. I've typed up, though not properly set out, the catalogue, all but a few more pieces which are arriving tomorrow and which I'll add before it goes off to be printed at the High School. The reprographics department is self-financing and so can do outside work at very reasonable rates, school commitments permitting. There is also a very good printers in Yagnub which I use for other work, and which well undercuts Norwich rates.
We are very fortunate, in that we have a business that we love and in that we are semi-retired (my husband receives a pension) and so have time for other things. Though, having got back from a churchwardens' meeting at half past nine, I discovered emails that had to be dealt with straight away and it is only now, an hour later, that I can get back to the catalogue. I am out tomorrow morning and so have to do it now.
Squiffany is convinced she talks in sentences. Indeed, she does; it is our loss that we don't always understand them. Individual words are clear, but more than two strung together are unintelligible to us and so need tactful questioning, so that she can answer 'yes' or 'no.' Dilly has an appointment at the hospital tomorrow morning, and will probably be booked in then, whether for Thursday, Friday or next Monday. She is really hoping that she goes into labour naturally and so has been for a drive in Al's bumpy trade van tonight. Keep your fingers crossed. You will, I promise, be among the first to know.