'And another thing'

As I sit in the garden, early Saturday evening 

on the longest day of the year.

Smiling at myself in the screen of the laptop...

hold tight... only to see if my mortgage inducing

root canal treatment injection has worn off.

I get to thinking about my week.

Well, I would do if I could hear myself think over

the noise abatement societies worst nightmare of

chirruping flaming sparrows.

I wouldn't mind, but I'm becoming 

increasingly deafer, than deaf.

The week has been action-packed.

Last Friday we went to the 

Affordable Art Fair with dear chums,

that I tell myself not to believe, are young enough

to be our children.

We got the inside track about exhibiting

and the pitfalls.  

A leisurely late luncheon, early evening

supper in a Hampstead pub with pint/wine in hand 

we put the world to rights-ish!

Alcohol, don't you find, brings out the inner politician?

Saturday - fete and

impromptu Aldi/Lidl fest

(written about)

Sunday - lazy day with dentures (fib)

in Steradent.  

Monday- Scotney and the charm

offensive, with by now gleaming knashers...

smiles a-go-go.

Tuesday - cake baking for

afternoon tea date with pals we haven't seen

for simply ages.

Rehearsals - Tuesday night.

Wednesday - afternoon tea,

scrummy sandwiches and wicked

chocolate cake...

err... 'healthy' baked nectarines with

almond stuffing.

Thursday - Lip-reading class,

where I'm ashamed to say I troll along 

with choccies for teacher.

they don't call me a snivelling, trying a

tad too hard, to be teacher's pet

for nothing, you know!
Rehearsals - still I haven't learnt my six lines.

Friday - A trip to Charleston

and guess who forgot to take her camera?

When of course the garden was looking at its

very, very blowsy best.

The only fly in my ointment was

the bed of dahlias.

"Surely the Bloomsbury Group didn't give

dahlias room in the bed?"

I said in my best lady Docker voice.

thinking all the while... 

'Well everybody else got bed space,

why not a frigging dahlia!'

"Best ask the gardener!" the lady said.

The trouble was I'd missed the trilby-hatted him,

at the start of our tour.

I had spied a much loved by me, and I'm afraid to say

only me, what looked like a 

giant hogweed...

The garden was a delight, just my sort of

disordered chaos.

My grandchildren call me Poppy,
perhaps a name change to Angelica
might be in order.
I think not...
angelic?

Saturday - a flaming dental appointment...

I ask you who goes to the dentist on a Saturday?

I left home early for my 3pm appointment.  
I mooched around the Pantiles...
giving everybody the evil eye because...

 I couldn't join the rest of the world sat in the sun

enjoying luncheon and watching the world go by.
Hadn't I only just cleaned my teeth to within an inch of
their very precarious lives?  
Wine, crudities, olives, garlic bread plays havoc with the old
oral hygiene, what!

I found just the earrings I needed to complete

my ensemble for the Edwardian picnic,

where I'm going as...

Vanessa Bell.

Ted as John Maynard Keynes...

John M.K. in the garden at Charleston painted by
Roger Fry

hence the refresher trip to Charleston.

With my bosom and strings of pearls

I just couldn't bring myself to go as Queen Mary.

Alright I know some might say I have all the accruements...

but still...

Suffolk next week...

brace yourselves.