Saturday, 11 April 2009

Z buys a Birthday present

Weeza and Phil have a small front garden, half of which was covered by dull shrubs planted by the builders when the house was built a few years ago, and half of which is grass. Weeza and I (each being as impulsive as the other) hauled them all out a few weeks ago - I cut off the branches with my pruning saw and she dug out the roots. A couple of days later, the Sage drove over in his van and removed all the shrubs for the bonfire.

So, I wondered if she'd like replacement shrubs as a birthday present, and she was very pleased. This is the reason that, having babysat last night while they went out for dinner here, I stayed overnight so that we could all go to the garden centre together.

Weeza had the rabbit, the pork and the hot cross bun and butter pudding. I don't know what Phil had, but it must have included the beef as Weeza enthused about the smoked potato purée. She said that the food was beautifully presented, bordering on fussy but redeemed by being completely delicious. There was a small mishap during the evening caused by a dim sous chef in the kitchen, which was brushed off as being of no matter by Weeza and Phil, who were astonished at the end of the evening to be presented with no bill, but with thanks. They could do nothing but promise to go again...

Zerlina cried for a long time. This is, apparently, most unusual. I tried the reassuring hand, I tried the cuddle. They didn't make the slightest difference. Finally, after getting nowhere for 20 minutes, I reckoned that I was quite possibly disturbing her more with my presence than my absence, so I went back downstairs and closed the door. She fell asleep in the end and slept until 6 am. She was all smiles this morning and doesn't seem to hold it against me.

Happy Easter, darlings, in case I don't have time to pop in tomorrow morning.


Dave said...

I will pop in in the morning, as I have a message from the Bishop of Norwich to share with my readers, but Happy Easter nonetheless.

Z said...

When I meet the Bishop of Norwich, I usually fetch him a glass of red wine. He appreciates that