Wednesday, 31 August 2016

The Marie Celeste of Tables

Working in the kitchen yesterday - making a chicken/ginger/mushroom stir fry for the Captain and the Roger's supper, I kept turning round to put things on the table, set the table, etc.  But:  No table.

It had spirited itself out onto the balcony, where a seriously-aproned Captain B was sanding and re-varnishing it. I am now under stern instructions about being more careful when I scrub it down.

It is back pristine, and I have just set it for breakfast.  The English Channel is back too. It had disappeared into a sea-fret earlier this morning. Looks like its going to be another hot hot hot day. But there is definitely an Autumnal feeling for all this - especially this morning, with the mist.

The season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.  Which I love.  But its the usual thing  - the way the years fly past me faster and faster and faster.

I have managed to do all but 3 of my magazine route calls - got a very nice welcome from both Mike and Tony when I turned up on their doorsteps yesterday.  I think that I can do one today as Jean and I drive back from visiting Maggie, but the other 2, a little beyond my driving range at the moment, will have to wait till next month.  I think I will deliver both magazines together.

I have just realised that the heading for this blog does not actually work.  To be the Marie Celeste of tables, the breakfast dishes I have just set out on it should all mysteriously disappear, but the table itself should remain.

I think I had better go to the kitchen and check

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