I woke very early and something delicious happened. For a few seconds I thought it was a weekday and that I would have to get up, only then to find it is in fact a Saturday morning. We ate breakfast in our night attire and switched on the TV to watch cartoons. An odd thing for me to do. Ally especially at 9am finds the TV offensive. Afterwards I finished the letter to the Smiths of Weeke and took it out to post with Auntie Hilda's birthday card, only to find that I have missed the last post of the day by ten minutes. How infuriating. Ally, in a white T-shirt, looking bonnie, was washing and cleaning.
A cold day. We couldn't feel the ends of our fingers. John phoned last night. The party is still on and he wants me to brew some ale for him. Poor Janette is working hideously long hours. I fail to see why anybody would want to buy a caravan at 9:30 on a cold wintry night. John assures me that they do.
Went to town by bus and did the shopping and then walked back up - quite a haul with 48 tons of King Edward potatoes. A pleasant afternoon with a weak sun. At home we cuddled and had a beer and listened to Michael Jackson. Ally was restless and wanted visitors and so we phoned Jill and Tim who cannot come because they are going out with Tim's Dad. Phoned Karen. They come at 8:30. Karen looks fit and not too big. The baby is due on August 18, but will be three weeks late, she says. We sat and watched Terry Wogan interview Dolly Parton. Ugh. Steve fell asleep on the floor and Karen saw no point in letting him get settled, and so they left at about 11:30. Bed.
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