Surprises

I remember that, when I was feeling rather depressed during the 1979 Rio UPU Congress, hearing bagpipes, and assuming that I’d gone out of my mind.  This might well have been (and may remain) the case, but the explanation was that the lamented British Caledonian, which had flown us there, were doing a big promotion across the way at the Intercon.  I had a similar fright a day or two ago when I heard the pipes outside: a piper was escorting a funeral procession down the street.  I know not whose, but hope that the ceremony helped the mourners.

We’re waiting to hear from the people who are fitting tailored covers to our 1939 vintage suite, bought at that year’s Ideal Homes show.  It has been recovered and rebuilt several times over the decades, and is solid and comfortable.  Today, Martyn had a dig down the side of his favourite chair, and came back up with £9:20!  Dining chairs we bought not long ago have sagged badly.  For two pins, I’d have a crack at reupholstering them, but (a) I doubt whether the frames are strong enough, and (b) I’m not sure the old mitts are up to it.

As I write, we’re battening down the hatches in preparation for two storms.  Ben tied back the climbing roses on Wednesday, and we just hope the fences concerned stay up.  And the phone lines!