This morning we went into town, collected parcel, ordered flowers for our hostess this evening -going out to supper with friends. I know it's the done thing these days to take a bottle of wine for the host, but taste in wine is such an individual thing that I think it's a bit presumptuous to think he'll like just the same as I do, so I usually just take decent flowers for our hostess. Played scrabble this afternoon. Managed to fit four games into the two hours we play. Didn't win any of them, but came a fairly close second in all four games. Very enjoyable indeed. Walking home met the granddaughter of a friend of ours. It was a lovely day, and she stopped for a natter, which was nice. So many teenagers seem very shy and just grunt at one, so that it was a real pleasure to have a civilised conversation with one of the younger generation (early twenties, I should think). Five p.m. now, so just time for a nap to freshen up ready for this evening. More later perhaps.
9 comments:
Tiny maybe, but beautifully arranged!
v word is the genteel enquiry of a person of scottish nobility after taking part in vigorous exercise...
Mings one?
Your garden is beautiful! Thanks for sharing the view.
Grunt!
Ha ha, fooled you into thinking I was a youngish 20 year old ;)
Utterly convincing mimicry Pooh! but of course you are well within memory range of such modes of teen-age communications. Have your two sweet babes found the Huh!-Grunt lingo yet?
Luv-UC/GUC
Oh Dear! the next v-word suggests poor Sue only got an Yttrium-Aluminium-Garnet in her engagement ring - I suppose even diamonds aren't forever these days?
sueyag
It would be very easy to convince anyone you are a youngish twenty year old, Nea. Although I, your father, know that you are the same age as Mr. Prior's Phyllis's second age.
Ha!- What has to be done to a date-disc with no numerals Mike?
the v-word suggests it has to be - burind!
PS. I'm getting frightfully dim these days, I just couldn't get my head round the syntax of your declaration of your middle daughter's Anno Domini; or if she doesn't like the age of Mr Prior's Phyllis's second, should that read Anno Mosity?
Sorry, I didn't make that clearer.
Easy way is to write out Matthew Prior's poem of circa 1710, to which I was referring :
How old may Phyllis be? you ask.
whose beauty thus all hearts engages.
To answer is no easy task, for she has two ages.
Stiff in brocade, and pinched in stays,
her patches, paint and jewels on,
all day let envy view her face, and Phyllis is but twenty one.
Paint, patches, jewels laid aside,
at night astronomers agree,
the evening has the day belied,
and Phyllis is some forty three.
And although I would not, of course, reveal a lady's age, and as she is now on her way to England, and will probably therefore never read this comment, I think I am safe in hinting that the poem is applicable.
I was right Mike, I WAS being awfully dim... that one sailed right by me, although it clicked as soon as you said Matthew rather than Mr Prior, But I had mistakenly conflated that with one of Matthew Arnold's works, adding to my Prior confusion?
For the moment you are the King! the V-word acknowledges you with 'kingmo'.
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