Lunching au jardin
trout I caught myself baked in a salt crust, and The Hound stood about looking pretty.
Mr Naylor, and My Beloved Boys were in attendance, we talked of flowers, weddings, interesting encounters at the goose fair, jam jars and Land Rovers.
I had planned more fancy details name cards and the like, but i had a problem with the table. I decided to purloin a table from the shop, it seemed innocent enough, but somehow got itself wedged in the laundry room. At one point The Hound was trapped in the garden, and I was trapped in between the table legs. It took an hour of cursing a few tears to free us both. We can do without the table in the shop, It is staying where it is for the moment....
The Hound was well behaved, lazed about on his sheepskin rug (he doesn't really like to lie on grass/dirt) and generally behaved in a cool and elegant way, until he had a mad 5 minutes and demonstrated why i don't have a lawn anymore. Rudolph Nureyev one moment, Tasmanian devil the next
I love these men, I wanted to lock the door so they couldn't leave, but i think that could be construed as kidnap.
Posted by Miss Pickering at 9:09 PM