Epiphany
The snow supposedly forecast for this week has yet to arrive. Ally was out of bed like a shot mixing scrambled eggs long before I raised my weary head. She is much better today and fortunately her voice didn't go the same way as mine.
YP: continued with the honours list, and made sure I took my time. Kathleen did my EP indexing. The Lord High Constable of Scotland, the Earl of Erroll, has become engaged to Isabelle Hohler. Miss Hohler's cousin Lucinda recently betrothed herself to a Compton of Newby Hall. Lord Cornwallis, who the Daily Telegraph accidentally 'killed off' last September, finally bit the dust on Monday. It must have been disturbing for the old boy reading his own obituary in the broadsheets. Imagine the tea, toast and marmalade splattered everywhere.
It was a year ago this very night, in bed at Pine Tops, that Ally and I decided to marry. It's been a beauitful and satisfying year.
Phoned Mum this afternoon. Her voice so distorted with her cold that I thought I'd phoned the wrong number. We are going tomorrow.
I posted a list of English personal names to Susan. Let's hope she makes the right choice.
Lasagne for dinner. Threw out our Christmas tree and put our balls away for another year.
Sat and watched 'Hannibal Brooks' [again], eating apples, buns, and chocolates. Well, it is the last day of Christmas.
Splashed in the bath.
-=-
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