I really should make notes when I think of these things . . .

Julia completed the stitching on my trousers in quick time – about four times as fast as I had doner my bit, and far neater. She said it’s not perfect but it should do. I pointed out that anyone who was prepared to examine the black stitching in my black trousers from a close enough distance to see it, was unlikely to be worried about the quality of stitching. And if they were that fixated on neatly hemmed trousers, they weren’t the sort of person I wanted to engage in conversation anyway. Life is too short to worry about a bit of stitching. It would be nice, however, if all leg measurements on trousers were accurate. I can alter the waist with a belt but braces, excellent though they are, can’t really make up for an extra couple of inches in the leg.

It’s Thursday already and the visitors have only just caught up on their sleep. Ideally we should now be embarking on a list ot touristy things, but we have to get everything ready for Wedding II, the sequel. I enjoyed Wedding I but I’m not so sure about the festivities and all the jollity and young people that will be at the next one. There are going to be five babies, I’m told, which sounds like the basis of a diabolical musical instrument rather than a fun afternoon.

I envisage a line of children in highchairs, each with a favourite toy. When you want noise, you take the toy away from them. The resulting noise won’t be pretty, but avant-garde music seldom is. I  could be an innovator. Or I could be moments away from being pelted with cheesy pasta by irate parents.

Anyway, got to go now. Grandson calling for company to watch cartoons. I feel it is my duty to help out.

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