I had said I'd work in the shop today, but I'd expected to leave at 1 pm. In the event, Al was getting on very well with Squiffany's climbing frame and I decided to stay on, so that he, the Sage and Jamie could get it finished. Al's in-laws are coming for lunch tomorrow so, naturally, he wants it finished for them to see.
As it's a holiday weekend and surely people would be all planned and prepared for Easter Sunday lunch, he had been going to shut up shop at 3, but I was busy sorting things out and it was an hour later when I finally started to bring everything in. Of course, that was the signal for customers to scurry apologetically around the corner "Am I too late?" "Of course not, if there's anything you can't get at, ask and I'll move things."
Only another 3 customers, but I took a good £15, which was fair enough and, more importantly, they weren't disappointed - no, really, I am that caring and lovely a person (hmm).
But, by the time I waddled back to my car - my joints have not worked right for the last 6 months since Squiffany inveigled me into her play tunnel and I crawled through it 3 times - and came home and went to admire the climbing frame and went to get my camera and spent a long time unsuccessfully searching for it (later, it turned out that the Sage had put it in the dining room) and played with Pugsley while Dilly cooked tea for him and his sister, it was after 5.30 and I still had flowers to arrange in the church.
And by the time I had done that, it was nearly 7 o'clock and I still had dinner to cook (the Sage was still busy with bantams, weight-pulling was not an issue at all) and so I needed a little something. With rare prescience, I'd put a bottle of pink Cava in the fridge at 5 o'clock.
I should have made it two bottles really.
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5 comments:
2 bottles, indeed.
and i can never imagine you waddling. never.
Too much, do you think? But I was thirsty and tired and I really, really deserved it.
I'll be glad when whatever I've strained puts itself right. I have developed this oddly lolloping run and it makes me cross.
Nothing better than champagne or cava to soothe aching muscles. It tastes tons better than ibuprofen.
Happy Easter.
It didn't even occur to me to take a pill. I was stiff as I rolled out of bed this morning though.
Happy Easter
Z the day comes - and I rejoice - when grandson cooks one night and granddaughter another. Clearing up is a bit hellish but everybody is happy!
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