our local Arts Centre having been rebuffed,
for offering my services,
I don't mind admitting every pore in my bod smarted.
Waking up yesterday morning I felt sad and unloved.
(pathetic I know - cos I'm anything but!)
Friday is always an exciting Abel & Cole delivery day
and as we were having guests for luncheon, Ted kept
bobbing out to see if our order had been left in the
little secret cupboard by the gate.
Mid morning it had, and I was summons to stash the goodies away.
On seeing him staggering in with more boxes than expected,
in my best Lady Bracknell voice,
my dulcet tones reverberated around the village.
'Stop! Two of these boxes aren't for us!'
On closer inspection the address was right, the name was wrong.
My stout legs with veins resembling
an O.S. map carried me at speed up the stairs
to phone the lovely Mr. Abel.
'Oh woe is me, we seem to have been delivered
someone else's order!' AND
worse than that it is a...
bottle of champagne and a
I was quite overcome by the thought of...
a bottle of sparkles PLUS a pie...
going to someone else.
I was game; however honesty,
much against my better judgement,
horribly came into play.
The cheery Ellie at Abel & Cole,
said she'd get on the case and report back.
I wouldn't mind, but I'd even offered to
fridge it, Ted had even offered to deliver it!
If that isn't being magnanimous
I don't know what is!
I paced around waiting for a call back,
looking for all the world like a
looking for my next
fix of Battenburg.
The phone rang...
'It's good news' said Ellie
'What it's been a horrible mistake and I can keep it?'
'No, better than that, it was ordered by Jean in Leeds
especially for you. She wants you to have a lovely picnic in the garden
while the weather is nice and enjoy!
Well, you could have knocked me down with a feather!
We have, and we raised a glass to Alan and Jean.
Can you tell which glass is Ted's?