No time to say Hello, Goodbye, like the White Rabbit I have been running on the spot to keep up today. I met up with Daughter this morning to buy her something from Zara in the sale as part of her Christmas present. It was worth doing - she chose a very smart black jacket and a jumper, plus a pair of shiny black patent shoes. And I bought a jacket too - it's always worth looking in the Zara sale!
I flew back to finish cleaning the bathroom because I was expecting my new Foreign Student at about 1pm. Shame, because it was a glorious blue-sky day, and what I really wanted to do was walk by the sea for a bit. No chance. I had to wait until nearly 2.30 for him, but I did get the Christmas decorations down while I waited. And I managed to hoist the Christmas tree out of my middle sash window without having to drag it through the house. It floated down and landed gracefully on the grass - I'll drag it round to the recycling shredder tomorrow, if it's not pouring with rain again. By the time I was able to get out, it had clouded over and was grey, rainy and uninviting. I walked anyway, feeling cosy in my new bodywarmer (which does exactly what it says it does) and got my shopping in Tesco on the way back. I was quite cross at the till when the man behind me offered up his Tesco card, before I could get mine out, and snaffled my points! I nearly said "Bloody cheek. Would you like to pay for my shopping as well?" I didn't though - it just wasn't worth it.
Then it was time to cook supper for both my guests. My new Student is from Zurich. He seems very nice and polite, and even asked me if he could have a shower, and if it would disturb me. How considerate. He also gave me the promised chocolate, which is Swiss and looks gorgeous. How am I going to resist that?
After supper, Gay Friend came round to watch the first part of Sense and Sensibility.
(Just before he arrived I had been looking at photos of Son and his friends on Facebook - there's a whole new album of photos from their trip to Edinburgh for New Year. They all look very happy and very drunk. No surprise there then.) Anyway, we watched the Jane Austen, which was OK - very much what we expected and didn't really match up to Cranford. Jane Austen does signal up her dramas and disasters,(and I do love her for it), while Mrs Gaskell gives her writing that sharp edge; she manages to make it look effortless and always delights me with her touches of irony. She wrote about real people and described real life dramas, but with such style and compassion. She's pure class.
Oh Lord, look at the time. I must get to bed...