This afternoon, I gave my apologies for the governors' training meeting tonight. I don't think I've ever done that before - in fact, it annoys me to see the number of no-shows at these meetings. We get busy and tired, of course, but a phone call to say you aren't going to make is is simple courtesy and very little trouble.
Anyway, this means that I have the gift of three extra hours to get ready for tomorrow.
It's my own fault. I could have booked lunch at Earsham Street Cafe, but I willingly said I'd give the committee lunch, as it's the last meeting of the season. And I did lunch last year - on that occasion, we had asparagus, then chicken fillets stuffed with pork, then pineapple and passion fruit. Tomorrow's will be considerably simpler, ie cold - salmon and various salads, strawberries, cheese. Can't get easier than that.
Except, why did I think opening a bottle of prosecco would be a good idea? That is, opening the bottle was a splendid idea, as it always is. But finishing the second glass before I'd had dinner was, maybe, misguided. Dinner, by the way, was pizza. Pfft. It's been a busy day and I had no time to shop, not while the butcher was open anyway. The Co-op was open, but I forgot to buy biscuits.
So, do I leap out at the moment the shop opens to get biscuits, or do I make them tonight, at the same time that I am gently poaching salmon and making a start on a range of interesting salads? Not that I've watered the greenhouses yet. That might take priority.
Damn. It was the third glass of wine that did it. I am assailed by uncertainty.
This morning's thingy was all right, thank you and I pretended well. I can't say anything about the situation, but it's been dealt with now and I hope it won't arise again in any form. The local school has a really good headteacher, that I will say.
Water the greenhouses. Yes. Then cook the salmon, Then blanch the asparagus, pod, cook and peel the broad beans and cook and spice the couscous. Then think about other salads. Yes. Scrub new potatoes. Make mayonnaise. Having thought, do advance preparations for other (having been thought about and decided upon) salads.
The silver is all cleaned and shines amazingly. It's beautiful. It had looked decidedly copperish. The table is laid, including proper linen napkins that are beautifully ironed (by me, natch) but unstarched. Pi and I agree on this, napkins that lie stiffly on your lap are not as nice as those that drape. I have got out the 100-year-old cups for coffee.
Oh damn. I've got to write a piece for the newsletter too, and the deadline is tomorrow. Never mind, by the time I come to do that, I'll be sober.