OUR HEAVENLY GARDEN
M O N D A Y, 8 M A Y
I picked bluebells for school.
Anya has had the most marvellous idea for the Polnareff doll: we're going to make him a wardrobe of clothes, a crate of avocados, and tiny copies of his records! I'll call her with his measurements tonight.
In the dinner hour we went up to the Cabbage Patch and talked about how few people we really like in our form. There are lots who are 'nice', but what's the good of that if you're not intelligent and interesting? Then a funny thing happened: as we were walking back along the road, this chap got out of a car a few yards in front with a ghastly greasy whiff of black hair and sideboards, smoking a cigarette - the moment she saw him, Anya let out a piercing shriek!!! He stared and stared.
Back home, I went for a walk with Chump round the big garden to see how the tennis court's getting on; it's now got a top covering of white stones. The azaleas are beautiful and I imagined I was with Dutronc (I sang the songs I heard in Austria to remind me).
Half way through supper Mr Delaney came to see about Chump's new vegetable plot. He's so sweet. "Och aye," he said, "I put weedkiller between all my rasps..." I didn't get what he was talking about - till Chump explained to me 'rasps' are raspberries!!!
Whenever I sit down I get rheumatic pains around my hips.