Tuesday, 12 August 2008

Mellow fruitfulness

I wrote full and helpful notes for last night's meeting and sent them out, with a column to say who's going to do what and had an email back from someone who hadn't been there to say couldn't we get on a bit faster and why weren't we planning to have another meeting next month? Oh I say. I thought we were doing quite well, or at least if we do what we say we're going to we will. I haven't started on my bit yet, but then I have done the write-up and that took me a good two hours.

Anyway, last night Tilly didn't want to get off the sofa to go out so the Sage left me to persuade her before I went to bed an hour or two later. I made her, cruelly (I clapped my hands briskly and stood up), because I didn't want her to have the embarrassment of having to ask me to come and open the door in the middle of the night. Poor old darling was stiff and limping. She was fine this morning, I think she'd simply been lying still for too long. Tonight, when the Sage called her she got up straight away. She's just come back, looking hopeful. I didn't have any of her biscuits here so I've given her half a ricecake and a strawberry. She was pleased. She was just in time, because Ro has also come in, looking for his share of the strawberries. He looked mildly disappointed when he found there were only six left, and has gone for the melon I offered him earlier on to have with them.

There has been a lot of rain. And wind. Floods, in some places. You wouldn't think it was the middle of summer. Hot, in between the storms, but nothing like summer as we used to know it. You know, like last century, when I was young.

A funeral to play for tomorrow. Not at our village church and it's an organ I haven't played before. It could be a bit tricky. There will be a CD played at the start which will let me off the hook somewhat (I won't have to work so hard for my money) but I won't have time to get used to the instrument. If I say nothing about it tomorrow, it'll be because it's been an experience I'd rather forget.


Mr Farty said...

Checks profile - thank goodness, Tilly is a dog.

I'm sure your organ recital will be fine. As long as you play all the right notes, nobody will notice if they're in the right order.

Dandelion said...

I shall pray for you. Is it a decorated organ?

Any news yet?

Z said...

Dave is convinced that Tilly is my daughter-in-law. I haven't the heart to tell him.

You are all encouragement, Mr F.

Z said...

Ooh, you popped in while I was writing. Thank you, and no. I hope the word 'fruitfulness' didn't raise your hopes unduly. I had to go shopping today to take my mind off it.

Caitlin said...

I'm in hysterics picturing you giving a rice cake and a strawberry to your daughter-in-law....not to mention clapping your hands to get her off the sofa.

Dave said...

No, surely Tilly is your sister?

The Boy said...

No no no, Tilly is one of the grandkiddies... And what's wrong with a rice cake and strawberries.

Waiting with baited breath for news!

Z said...

You're all as bad as each other!