QUARTLYS
QUARTLYS
QUOTA
AFTER all the rushing around of the last few months, it makes a really pleasant change to sit back and enjoy the calm.
Michael now has his head down (I hope) for his last year at university. He never writes to us and seldom phones, unless he wants something or has a problem. Silence from Nottingham is definitely good news.
Emma has quickly settled in at Liverpool. To begin with, I was worried how she would cope with life in a big city after 18 years of living miles from anywhere, but she seems to be in her element, having found all the best clubs and cheapest bars in town (maybe I was right to worry).
In between her social engagements she is learning to talk in hieroglyphics. I had no idea it was a spoken language, but apparently it is. At least she doesnt have to bother too much about pronunciation – after all, theres no one alive to complain even if she gets it totally wrong.
Fred too is starting to take life easy, although he hasnt fully retired yet. While we wait for someone to come up with a sensible offer for the farm, weve let all the pasture land for grazing and as a favour Fred is doing the shepherding. Well, he really needs all the exercise he can get, now that he doesnt need to get out of bed in the mornings.
Im not too sure whether the "healthy" body is accompanied by a healthy mind, though. Yesterday he told me that the small inscribed bible I was packing had been a gift from his godmother on the occasion of his cremation! Theres no answer to that.
I suppose I ought to try to make the most of the peace and quiet. Im sure it wont last long, before I have to get back into the fray. I dare say the first job I should think about doing is to make last years Christmas cake. I bought the ingredients 12 months ago but somehow never seemed to get round to putting them all together. Theyve been sitting in the pantry waiting for me to find time to do something with them ever since and theyre more than likely well past their "best before" date by now. Perhaps I should just carry on thinking about it.
All in all, Christmas preparations havent got off to a very good start this year, I was sitting at the breakfast table writing to sister Barbara, to invite the family down for the holidays – we both love writing letters so only use the telephone if we have something urgent to say. On this occasion, perhaps I should have given her a ring. It might have saved some red faces.
"What day of the week is Christmas Day, this year?" I asked Fred. A simple enough question. He took down the calendar from the wall and looked at it.
"Monday," he said,
decisively.
Youd think that after more than 20 years of marriage I would have learned by now not to believe a word he says, without double
checking, but he did have the calendar in front of him, after all.
It was two or three days later before I found out that it is actually on a Friday.
Oops! I wonder if Fred realises that I have now invited his mother-in-law (along with all the other in-laws) to stay from the Saturday before Christmas to the day after Boxing Day – 11 days in all instead of the five days I had intended. I cant wait to see his face when he finds out.