Massage, a late lunch and where's my Mac??

A brief visitation from the Mac today before it decided to deny all knowledge of ever having an Internet or a mailbox connection. Sigh. So I'm back on the old PC typing this. Ah, it's like I've never been away, you know. However it's another one to add to Lord H's list of mending things. Poor chap.

Anyway, apart from the Mac deciding it doesn't like me any more, I've actually had quite a nice day. Shock! Had a Clarins facial & massage in Guildford with the lovely Charlotte today - it's her last day (sob ...) as on Monday she flies off to a new life in Gran Canaria. Lucky for some for sure! I took in champagne to toast her on her flight - good luck, Charlotte, we'll miss you. Though, honestly, some people will do anything to get away from me.

After that, it was a very late lunch and girly chat with Sue - another Guildford friend, which was fun but I think we may well have doubled the noise volumes in the cafe. At least. Not much of a surprise there then! And I also managed to catch up on my essential shopping needs - and even tried to go into a clothes shop that wasn't M&S and look like I knew what I was doing. So that didn't last long. I don't think I really understand clothes shops, and M&S is the only one I can cope with without hyperventilating and feeling like I'm in an alien universe. I knew I should have taken my How To Be A Girl pills before I left.

Though, apparently, today is a day when I should actually have been in Godalming rather than Guidford - as Godalming is now the centre of the artistic universe; Chris Evans is moving from these parts and his driver appears to have taken a priceless Damien Hurst painting from his house and deposited it by mistake in one of the Godalming charity shops. Ah, rich pickings are here for the the taking, you know. We are indeed a town of many treasures. I bet all the Matrons of Godalming are even now slugging it out in the High Street for victory. There's an image you don't really want to dwell on. At least not for long.

I've just finished (for the second time - no wonder I thought it was so familiar!) Barbara Vine's The Chimney Sweep's Boy. Very well written but oh the people in it are soooooo irritating. The one good thing is that the wretched Gerald is dead by Page 2 - if I'd been Ursula I would have finished him off way way before he managed to die of a heart attack. And the daughters needed a good slapping too. By the time I got to the (plot give-away alert!) incestuous homosexuality flashback bit at the end, I really didn't care much. Nor find it particularly believable. Anyway, Gerald deserved a bit of suffering - shame it didn't seem to make him any nicer.

Tonight, I'll catch up on the cleaning and stare mournfully at my Mac until Lord H takes pity on me. Hmm, maybe I have been taking those Girlie Pills after all.

Today's nice things:

1. Clarins massage
2. Lunch with Sue
3. Thrilling at Godalming's moment of artistic fame.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers