Eighty
S. didn't play tennis last week as it was her 80th birthday. She brought in sparkling wine for us to have after tennis. She looks fragile, but packs a mean backhand slice. She's a fascinating character; always perfectly dressed, the kind of person who will wear a nice dress, pearls and lipstick to buy her Daily Telegraph. She's quintessentially English but actually German. Here, she raises a quizzical glass and tells me off for photographing her.
Rest of the day passed as normal; home in the afternoon, out in the evening, nothing much to report. Last days here so quite a bit to sort out before we leave.
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