Locked out

Oh, what a foolish Z. I had, as a responsible person does, taken out unnecessary stuff from my handbag - a couple of name badges for different organisations, extra credit cards, various keys etc. I'd left a neat pile on the landing. This morning I went to visit Dilly and the children.

They had a dreadful weekend. The children were very itchy and, although they weren't really ill, they couldn't sleep. The baby had a big chickenpox spot on his lip and a couple in his mouth, so he didn't want to eat. Luckily, Dilly is still breastfeeding (Pugsley is nearly 8 months old), so could up from the usual morning and evening feeds and, at least, keep him nourished. Squiffany was restless and irritable and DVDs at 3am became a life-saver.

However, by this morning, the worst was over and most of the spots were healed. I took through presents, received a warm welcome (not just for the presents, whatever did you think that for?) and stayed a couple of hours. I used the 'house' key to lock up and, when I went back, replaced it. This afternoon, I went to my High School meeting (pupil disciplinary committee, I'd love to tell you about it - really, I'd appreciate your comments - but it's confidential), came home ... and remembered I hadn't picked up my own key and the Sage was out (a business call in Woodbridge, an hour away) and so were Dilly and Al. I could have gone to the supermarket and bought groceries. Hm. Pfft. Pshaw. I went to the splendid local teashop (it will be mentioned in BD's meme) and had coffee and walnut cake and Earl Grey tea.

I rang Al. They were in Norwich and had lost our house key anyway - mislaid, I should say, it'll be somewhere around. It was 4 o'clock. Ro would be home at 5.30. I ordered another pot of tea.

Darling friends, their lovely daughter, who is Ro's age, and Mrs DF's beloved father were great company as always. My friend B (Mrs DF) was gracious and fun as ever, but admitted after her father had gone to bed that it's tough. I know, I looked after my mother until she died, and I confided things that made her realise that I understood her situation. I also apologised for not visiting before - the Sage has, as I said earlier, but I've been so busy. From now onwards, I'll call in frequently. Her father and I get on. He's more than 20 years older than I am (B is my age), but there's always been a spark between us.

I gave B one of my precious packets of dried mushrooms. Polish mushrooms are divine. Polish soup is delicious. Go to Poland and eat soup. I ate onion soup, tomato soup, mushroom (made with dried mushrooms) and pasta soup and sorrel and cucumber soup with horseradish. They were gorgeous, every one. Yummy. I only bought two packets of dried mushrooms; to give one away is a sign of love. I also gave them a pack of dried plums (yeah, prunes, but how attractive does that sound?) in delicious chocolate, but I'd bought an extra couple of bags to give away, so it was not such a sacrifice.