OK, moving on now because I'm fed up with the previous few days. Thank you to all my lovely Blogger friends for their support and advice which has helped me to get where I am now. This morning I woke up, binned the tissues, and felt a whole lot better. I made breakfast for my Student - and told him that he is going to have to initiate conversations from now on, because that is the only way to learn. He has been relying on me to start conversations and get him talking over the past six weeks, but next week he starts his work experience and if he waits for people to talk to him there, he could wait a very long time. I tried to explain to him that the British are, on the whole, a reticent and polite nation. If you do not speak to them, they will think that you don't want to, and will politely refrain from speaking to you. If this happens, he will be stuffed, because he is here to learn English. I think he got the message. I also told him that if they ask him to make the tea, he should do that cheerfully and to the best of his abilities. He looked somewhat surprised, and asked me how to make a cup of tea! I was merely passing on the best, and only, piece of advice my Father ever gave me: "Whatever you are asked to do, do it as well as you can. No job is menial unless you consider it to be so."
This morning I showered and dressed in cheerful things, adding make-up and a bright pink pashmina to my outfit, and went with my friend opposite for a cup of good coffee at Othello. We also treated ourselves to almond croissants, which were divine. Then later Daughter phoned to say that she was on her way with Grandson (he is here with me for the weekend). We met in Town, joining up with Hon. Grandaughter and her Mum for a hot chocolate. It was so nice. I've now put Grandson to bed and am semi-watching First Wives' Club, which I love. I can watch just about anything with Bette Midler in it. And it reminds me of when my (now-ex) friend Barbara sent me a paperback copy of the book. On the cover was the picture of a woman's hand holding two golf balls and about to crack them together. Very graphic. Daughter, who was about 10 then, said "Ooh look, Mum, Barbara's sent you a book about golf!" There was, and is, no answer to that..