Chris and Douglas bought me a swish stamp album for my birthday last month and, seeing as to how I am currently more or less an invalid due to my lungs evidently being shot to pieces, every movement a gasp and a wheeze (sounds like one of those puffs for a Music Hall comic) which is strange because, sitting still you wouldn’t know there was anything wrong at all the breathing is so easy. So I have spent a week “doing” stamps and what a surprise I have had. I never realised just how extensive my collection is. Over the years I have merely put them away in boxes or envelopes and thought no more about them so how many hundreds I have to sort out I dread to think. The American ones on their own can virtually fill the book. Well, not quite, but almost. It’s been interesting though I must say, especially that, at the moment there is no writing on the cards. Not in the mood as yet to start Thornton King number five. Too much research to do first and I probably need a rest from writing anyway. Would simply love to get stuck into the garden again but the wheezy old chest won’t allow it.
Douglas is back in England for his latest proddings and probings. His flight was at sparrow yesterday morning which meant he and Chris both being up by five to set off for the airport. It’s a long journey time wise: Xania to Athens, Athens to London, London to Exeter, Exeter to Torquay. No wonder he’s fed up with travelling. The return journey will be made via Paris which is evidently shorter and cheaper than schlepping all the way up to Heathrow or Gatwick.
Chris has been getting a whole load of ballet DVDs. They’re out every fortnight. The latest was ‘La Sylphide from the Paris Opera which, despite its production and good dancing, I still find one of the most boring pieces ever, like Giselle. Previous to that we had ‘Excelsior’ something neither of us had ever heard of and what a great bit of Victorian style ballyhoo (and a hoot to boot) it is with a cast of thousands. I have never seen a ballet with so much callisthenics in it.
So cavalier Dave has won Beauty’s hand and Tories and Libs are in bed together while the Beast retires to lick its wounds. Can’t say I feel particularly sorry for him. He has always struck me as a rather unpleasant character. I wonder if that one little slip of the tongue, those two little words ‘bigoted woman’ could have had a major effect. Interesting thought.