Tennis and treats after trauma

Popped down to Uncle A to do some ironing. I noted that the new pyjamas that he had mentioned were a bit long in the arms and legs, have just been cut off. Excellent! A man after my own heart.

The other day, a bulb in the standard lamp suddenly just disintegrated and fell out, and none of the screw bulbs worked, though they seemed to fit all right, so there was nothing for it but to go back to JL and get the right numbered bulb. Who would have thought there were so many?

On the way across St Andrew's Square, I spied, again, the terrace of a well known restaurant, and decided to get a photo from there, as the clouds were nice. Then I decided that we could have an early dinner (tea) on Friday evening, as we are *ahem* - attending a Private Viewing at the Portrait Gallery.

All was booked and I asked to go to out on the terrace, where I fiddled about for a while. But on walking through the restaurant and coming back, I realised there was terrible, awful, twangy, screechy, Whitney Houston muzak blasting out. And I knew I could not sit there happily, so I cancelled the booking, citing the the muzak.

'What kind of music do you like?'
'On your tinny speakers with no base sound? - None, thanks!'

Actually, I didn't say that, I said that you can't please everyone, so why not have none. 'But it's carefully compiled in Head Office!' she said, somewhat hurt. I cancelled. There will be another place, which, if it has muzak, will have a decent sound system. Anyway, if it's a nice evening we can sit out on their terrace without booking.

As I arrived at the bus stop home my heart sank. My stomach did flips. Breathing was difficult. I had a feeling of great dread...

There is a lad I used to teach, actually, no - he was just in my class - and he made my life HELL. He was the most obnoxious child in the worst class of my whole career, and I was SO near to giving up. He's a (rather weedy) man now, always in the inevitable track suit, and I see him now and again around town. We both look away, so I'm not sure if he recognises me, but one of these days, I might just go and poke him in the ribs and shout in his face, 'You little barsteward! You made my life a misery!'

Or maybe I won't.

There's a Magnum in the freezer and an afternoon of tennis. JR got bargain Magnums and at 50p each, they taste even better than normal!