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Farewell, dear readers. For the next five weeks I’ll be traipsing around Germany, Denmark, The Netherlands, Austria and Ireland. Thank you Mastercard™. When I get back the 100th entry will be spectacular. Promise. This evening I’ve been packing, which is frustrating as a lot of the clothes are still on the line. A perfect excuse to give up and watch TV shows about mother-daughter relationships in small-town Connecticut, non? That’s the first time in my 34 years I’ve attempted to spell Connecticut, and though it looked wrong without that strange c there, it sure wasn’t obvious what the problem was. Anyway there’s plenty of time in the morning, and more pressure, so I’ll get an early night, even though I should really be getting a late night to accustom myself to German time. On Sunday night I took Marion on a big remember-me-over-the-five-weeks date. I took a punt on a pizza place, and came up trumps with a pizza with chicken, tomato and cashew nuts. Amazing. Then for coffee, I took her to a place that had looked funky when I passed it earlier that day, and which had stand-up comedy. Yay! Then back to the hotel (with spa-bath). I slept like a baby the next night. ☺ The choir I’m touring with did a concert on Saturday night. One of the few people who took note of my email and came was Tiff’s mum (that whole link’s very pre-Marion, isn’t it?). I seem to see more of her than I see Tiff, which is true to form, as mothers like me more than their daughters do. Except for Marion of course ☺... and I was looking for Tiff’s email address, and found some emails from her, as I’m a hoarder and never throw anything out. I’ll send her a postcard. Some messages: Lia, I did get excited. Sorry about not getting back to you about your story. I’m getting into the story, and I have a thing for twee, so I’m not thinking very critically. Sorry. The two Lauras-Jane are getting postcards, as is niceguymike. Hiss is getting one of Ceaucescu’s internal organs encased in amber, addressed to: The bewitching Lady of Leisure who sits in her front garden naked I’m sure the posties all know about her (by the way, HPPR stands for ‘Highest Priority Postcard Recipient’). So, as they say in Deutschland: “Tschüß!” And in the words of the immortal Jeff Fenech: “I love youse all”
Here’s an interesting entry I’ve been reading by . This month
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