I always feel, that everyone but me is having an uproarious time on Bank Holiday Mondays. A chilly grey day, and daughter J, one grand daughter, Jumble the dog, and I went to a village fete and mingled with crowds eating hot dogs. We stroked well groomed lambs,llamas,donkeys and ferrets in pens in the car park, listened to an elderly jazz band, then a lively skiffle group. I always long to have a dance but know I cannot due to dodgy knees and feet.
I have put myself on a strict diet regime on account of aforementioned knees,but in spite of son T mending the bathroom scales (I wonder why they broke?) the weight stays obstinately the same. On the plus side, I am reading an absorbing novel by Margaret Forster about grandmothers: Isa and May, but lying on the sofa reading is not conducive to weight loss. Perhaps I will have to get a dog and walk for a few miles each day like all the other Ditchling -ites.