The children behaved impeccably (that they did not sin seems quite appropriate for a churchy sort of doo). They happily did jigsaws until it was time for dinner, ate their dinner nicely (Pugsley did make a slug on the tablecloth out of half a bread roll, some ham and some cucumber, but he was quite tidy about it. At the end, he decided it was a ladybird and ate it) and joined in with conversations cheerfully and politely.
It was a jolly evening all told. There were thirty of us and have I mentioned (this is a conversational nicety, Dave; I have) that I did not have to help with the arrangements at all? I did make a bread-and-butter pudding, which I sampled (along with a few other puds) to make sure it was good. It contained a loaf of buttered bread, two and a half pints of milk, eight bantam eggs and sultanas, sugar and vanilla essence. Ten minutes before we were due to leave, I took it out of the bottom oven, discovered it was still runny in the centre and shoved it back in the top (hot) oven again - it was ready by the time we were.
Interesting developments regarding the flat in London; it seems the agent has Pulled His Finger Out and found a tenant. Rapid redecorating required. More news on that to follow.
I did a splendidly large pedestal flower arrangement and a smaller one to balance it to go on the altar, and have draped grapes still attached to the vine around a cross, arranged a home-made loaf against it and will add a jug of wine tomorrow. Lots of flowers and greenery were brought as well as plenty of fruit, vegetables and packeted and tinned food, all carefully arranged. The village schoolchildren made paper flowers to decorate the pew ends. The church looks cared for.
I don't have to play the organ tomorrow, but I do next week, when the Bishop is coming. Hmm. The Rector has promised to let me have the hymns by Monday evening. It'll be fine. At the worst, the Bishop will have a fine opportunity to practise Christian virtues of tolerance and forgiveness. Moi, je suis une autocrate. C'est mon metier. Le bon Dieu me pardonnera. C'est son metier*," as Catherine the Great (reference books disagree, but she's the earliest credited) said. That fortifies me quite often, when I've fallen by the wayside in a metaphorical sort of way.
Thanks to those who have sent photos to Ro's website. He is really pleased - he wasn't sure if anyone would, and that you've gone to so much trouble is very lovely and warming.
*I didn't check it and I rarely write in French. You're welcome to correct it.