There, feel better for that. But it made me think - how would I label myself - took two grande lattes in Starbucks to come up with - Buddhist, Catholic, Socialist, Wannabe Mitford Girl. That sums it up. I can't help it if there are inherent clashes - I am a woman of mystery.
Talking of culture clashes: there was I drinking my latte in the chilly September sunshine and reading Debo Devonshire's wonderful book 'Wait for Me'. For twenty minutes or so I was removed from Basingstoke and its endlass parade of shopping pilgirms and inhabited a world of sharp wit and unblinking aristocracy. It says a great deal about the Dowager Duchess of Devonshire that she writes about her family as a group of misguided but loveable eccentrics but never once does she seem to realise that she is as wonderfully eccentric and funny as the rest of them.
I was in the beastly place because I had an early morning fasting blood test - for those of you who are too young to understand, this happens when you get fat and aged - not only do you get wrinkles and grey hair but you have to undergo this riutal of blood being taken and then being told everything you eat is off the menu! Hence the grande latte - I was caffeine deprived and the autumn sunshine was the result of being nicotine deprived as well. God help me when the whole lot goes under cover -I visualise myself in the nearby churchyard sheltering under a friendly gravestone.
I was also wating for the blind neighbour, having arranged to meet him and take him to open a bank account - I have no idea why - something I said perhaps, but anyway, we went to Lloyds where he was well looked after and left brandishing his new papaperwork with great pride.
We came home and I collapsed exahausted only for my doorbell to ring. The blessed man had gone back into Basingstoke and bought me a bath bridge so I wouldn't keep dropping my book in the bath. Now that is what I would call romantic!
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