Z was planning to do something else this morning.

I woke early, remembered it was Saturday and stayed in bed reading for some time. It was half past eight by the time I ambled into the study to check emails ... oh, okay, I admit it, to see if there were any comments here, for who would have emailed in the last eight hours?

Margaret had. There was a slightly startled message to say that we had been offered more places on the Highgrove* visit and what did I think?

I wrote about this some weeks ago, and was thoroughly reprimanded by Dave. We were only offered 25 places and there were over 40 applicants: I said that we were having a draw to see who would get a place and he pointed out that I was cheating by putting myself at the top of the list. I had to agree.

We also had to send in names and addresses a fortnight in advance, to make sure we don't belong to terrorist organisations or have been caught buying weedkiller or eating non-organically-fed chicken. The visit will be next Thursday, so evidently they are prepared to waive that rule and do the checks in a couple of days.

I rang Margaret and we decided to go ahead. There are only 8 spare seats on the coach and, because of cancellations, I have 10 people left on the waiting list, so there's a reasonable chance I can fill them. It wasn't the way I expected to spend Saturday morning, but there we go. I'll just stick in my contact lenses and get dialling.

*The Prince of Wales' house. He offers tours of the garden to respectable groups of nice people. Though a few slightly louche ones can get in, as long as they pass the police check.

Update - I was planning to do something else this bloody afternoon too. Other people, it appears, have a life at the weekend. They go out. They do not answer their phones. I have filled five places and sent off confirming letters (letters of confirmation, Dave, unlike you I am not qualified to administer sacraments), have left two answerphone messages and have one woman who doesn't use a messaging service to remember to ring this evening.

None of this actually took a vast amount of time, of course, but I've sort of been hanging around not doing much in the meantime. Except, I had a phone call from Al. His deliverer, who has a shop key had, unaccountably, left all his delivery on the pavement outside the shop. A 40 pound (weight) box of bananas was missing, and a sack of carrots of about the same weight. We are looking for a strong monkey riding a donkey.

Anyway, he had received more bananas from his other supplier and could manage for most of the day, but he wanted me to go into the Co-op and buy a few kilos of carrots. Fortunately, they were English and about the same price as he sells them for, so at least he won't lose anything - he certainly won't pay for the missing stuff. He's probably run out by now, but you can't not have a staple veg on a Saturday morning. It's the way to lose customers.