I'll Be Back...Tomorrow

A fairly easy mornings work.
No King of the castle present just his doe eyed daughter wanting sausage egg and chips at 11. No prob I said, but no chips. So orf she went to the local cafe! But that was this morning, now it's the afternoon and I am resplendent in buttercup yellow and awaiting my trip to the flicks. Isn't it always old duffers that shuffle to the pics in the afternoon?....

Have been watching the tennis, and saw a rather lack lustre Sharipova lose out to the stunningly pretty Gisela of Argentina. It was a good ladies match but I think the powers that be are going to have to do something about the grunting gals. Too unladylike for my taste. Roger Federer made a comment about charisma-free Murray, he said that he would have a 'great future in tennis'. How's that for a put-down?
Am so bitterly disappointed about the absence of my favourite lad, Rafa Nadal, Wimbledon has lost its impeccable shine I feel, without the olive oil looks and bull like stamina of the fiery Spaniard. Boo Hoo to that:(

Oh well, tonight I'll escape my woes by being hugged in the magnificent arms of the Terminator which will no doubt, leave me ready to take on Lidl, Sainsburys and the a pile of washing tomorrow:)

Horses For Courses

London was cool.

Dad did somersaults over the trifle. Not literally you understand, that would be impossible with his legs. Mum liked the few bits and bobs I'd got for her, especially the plastic flowers in the tea cup. Loved that.
After a decent shop, where I bought a lovely sweet skirt which whipped me back to the halcyon days of my youth, the dream confection is a viscose patchwork affair in subtle colours of blue, eau de nil and pink and dusts my ankles in a gay, gypsy manner.

We watched the first day of Royal Ascot where the other Queen turned up in her carriage and the annoyingly out-of-place Suzi Perry spoke about the fashions. Ms Perry had a camp male chum by her side to help out with the ooohs and aahs of the fashion faux pas and fashion triumphs. His quips were straight to the point and I liked the way he walked. So thumbs up for him. But thumbs down to the 'Gadget Show' bird in the silly hat.

Now what Royal Ascot is all about.
Gambling.
Dad had the first winner and celebrated with a dollop of trifle but as the afternoon went on only managed to bag two further places, so he sulked a bit, screwed up his betting slips, and like all sensible gamblers looked forward to the next day.

So I had a jolly good time with my most favourite people on earth and in my creaking wisdom decided to stay a tad longer than I normaly do. Consequently I limped into my bungalow way after 8 p.m. I'm still recovering...

Yesterday was spent at Henry's palace where I did my Housekeeping duties with a huge knee and after leaving him a gentle note about; The importance of colour swatches, the necessity for a hearth rug, large petaled artificial flowers and what I'd accomplished on the table in his bedroom. I haven't heard from him since...

Today.

Today is shopping day but before I go to The Factory Shop for suet slabs, Lidle for a jar of cherries and Sainsbury's for everything else I'll do a detour to the charity shop and drop a piece of chocolate cake into Joan's hands.


Big questions of the day.
What'll I wear?
Shall I join the Rayleigh Operatic and Dramatic Society?
What can I do about my knees?

I have been given a pretty blue parasol for my garden table (thanks Rockman) and so after a tuna sandwich will swing it around above my head.


*Pic is of dad larking about with a waxy Benny Hill.