Hard Times

Coming down to earth after being away on holiday is hard. Not only are His Lordship and I on a severely restricted diet to combat the 7lbs we have collectively gained having denied ourselves nothing on the treat front in the pursuit of pleasure for the past three weeks. Now we must pay the price- no scones, no ice cream, no chocolate, but carrots to snack on and various forms of greenery. My stomach is complaining noisily as I write.

Not having had with me the notebook with all the family birthdays listed therein, I might well have completely forgotten the 12th birthday this week of a granddaughter, had not her mother phoned last night to remind me.

It is no mean feat to keep tabs on 20 close family birthdays with an extra number for their partners. Saved as it were by the bell, I scurried out this morning for a birthday card and a visit to the local hole in the wall since money is much more appealing to the young than any present that Grandmama might think appropriate.

En route I found these toadstools vacated by the fairies and in the process of disintegration. To me they look like flowers.