Here I am again, albeit two days late, up at 5.30 if you please in a dizzy attempt to snatch a few moments with my devoted reader(s) before the whirl that is summer society in London continues.

 

I have even ventured out beyond the M25, something I have frequently declared verboten especially during the hotter months.  My dear chums have purchased a charming apartment in a gorgeous place in Devon.  I refuse to give further details because it appears to be completely undiscovered by the Ordinary British and I intend to do my bit to keep it that way, ably assisted by the Ministry of Transport whose signage department have also been sworn to secrecy.

Even I, a woman with navigational skills which would impress Vasco da Gama (Look him up by next week and stop interrupting), even I, and my SatNav, got hopelessly lost and ended up on a single track road, navigating by the stars.

Back in Real Life the hours between 2.00 and 7.00 have had to be stripped to accommodate Wimbledon (Matches hopefully completed before The Archers takes precedence) and given the unbearable heat of late it is a blessing to be watching it in one’s own home within arms reach of a cold drink.  Or two.

Matters came to a head on Saturday when I had 18 for lunch, reduced to a more manageable 17 when a certain B.H. Roberts failed to appear. Unfortunately we had to eat lunch at breakneck speed as I was due at an evening event at 7.30 but after years of practice  we were able to squeeze in coffee and chocolates thanks to my legendary organisational skills and the guests all working their socks off.  They can come again.

Elder son has returned from Nice and brought with him a delightful young American who ended up staying a week.  Another adorable addition whose only drawback was that she had to be at Heathrow by 4.30 am to get a flight to Latvia. (And again: look it up etc etc).  Luckily this was after double party day so the opportunity for bedrest would have been limited at the best of times.  A popular combo called U2 was appearing at Twickenham stadium so we simply retired to the third floor balcony and listened in.  Location is so, so vital.  Yet another lesson for life.