Growl, prowl... "NO butterflies".
Its raining out and I am trapped in the flat with a butterfly-deprived Captain B. The Sharapova Lisicki match kept him happy for a while - two pretty blondes playing tennis. Not sure if he noticed they were playing tennis, but he watched happily enough.
The Wimbledon Ladies Title is safe from me this year. I can barely walk. Three days at the Stadium, followed by having to climb up and down the stairs to my appointment this morning (lift broken again) have just about finished me off. Audrey wants me to go out on the field service with her tomorrow, but I don't know if I will be able to.
In the meantime I have offered to put on a colourful frock, and flutter around the room, landing on one of our orchids occasionally so that Captain B can stalk and photograph me. My offer wasn't very gratefully received. He growled that when he wanted pressed orchids he'd let me know.
I need to go and study now and try to type up my spidery Convention notes and try to APPLY all that wonderful teaching.
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