Well, I lived to tell the tale of the ‘eek’ of my last blip only
to have it replaced by the sh*t and f*ck of today. Just when I thought I’d done my genteel neighbourly socialising for the year, and after getting back from a very wet walk, I was just shedding multiple sodden layers when there was a knock at the door and ‘did you get the card?’. There was a postcard with an invite to dinner on Friday night stuck in the letterbox.
Not just me but another couple that P and I had had ‘drinks’ with many moons ago and we escaped hoping we had got away with not having to do it again and another chap, an elderly retired policeman who had complained about us parking the van when we first moved in.
I was caught on the hop and heard myself say, ‘how kind, that would be lovely’, there was a moment of trying to back track ... ‘but I’m afraid I don’t usually get home from until 6.30/7.’ No problem ... 7 for 7.30 ... perfect.
Bloody hell, P, where are you? How could you leave me to this on my own?
I thought about moving but reckon it might be a bit tight to manage it by the end of the week.