A phone call from Stuart. Apparently my oldest ‘favourite’ niece is experimenting in cookery for school and would I like to come round for tea tonight to try her pakora?
Sadly I need to wait in for the supermarket delivery I ordered in a moment of “I have no time/energy to shop this week moments” whilst down in London (plus I was swayed by the £10 off Ocado email – lovely Waitrose goodies at, thanks to the discount, justifiable prices!).
Well how about tomorrow, he enquires, there will be samosas tomorrow.
Damn it! Gym and the Book Group preclude even a brief sojourn to their pad. Ah well, them’s the sacrifices you have to make, think I.
A little later a text message lands: “we now do a delivery service”.
And so, just after nine, a plate arrives with some wonderful biryani and fish and chicken pakora. Mighty fine. How much am I grinning do you think?
Then whilst Karen catches up on a TV series she’s been watching, Stuart and I time the journey to what, come August, will be their new home. About 8 minutes we reckon – heck the pakora would still be hot ;-)
The neighbourhood is great and the house looks good. By the time we get back to mine (ie a mere 8 minutes later!), I feel like jumping up and down with glee and hugging Karen. So I apologise that she probably missed half the second half of the drama in question, but I’m just the teensiest bit excited!
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3 comments:
oh when can I come and stay and see you all? I miss you and need loving and hugs and feeding up...lonely and hurting from down south...
oh can you all move to Bristol?
Sally - you know there's a spare room with your name on any time you want it. Saturday? Bring your lonely hurting soul north and it shall be fed curry and hugs.
Caroline - possibly slightly unreasonable to expect us all to move to Bristol...can't you move to Manchester? I think we've discussed before how a flat city is intrinsically more suitable for anyone on wheels...
Failing that aren't we three due a girlie weekend sometime soon?
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