Yesterday I found a postcard addressed ‘To The Lady of the House’ wedged in the letter cage.

On the front was a picture of a stylishly dressed woman lying on a pile of leaves, very Lady Chatterly. On the back: Autumn/Winter Collection: Kasbah, Roberto Naldi, Pomodoro, Kali Orea: 10% Discount.

Just the thing. How about, buy a new ‘autumn knit’ (jumper) and then go for a rustic roll around and wreck it on a twig?

Nope. The Lady of this House is indisposed, tvm, owing to a touch of influenza, whilst we’re sounding all Italian. Meanwhile, Dog was mad to tear the card up so after one spectacularly high leap, I let him have it.

Junk mail. It’s like slow acting poison…  [Cue wobbly screen effect.]

By the time I returned to bed with a Lemsip, I was in Elizabeth Barrett Browning mode, no longer a frowzy frump in a dressing gown with sticky-out hair, reaching for a laptop, but a lady reclining on a chaise longue, glass of Porter in one hand, quill in the other, thinking of Tuscany and Umbria…

And - look! - there is faithful Flush (the trusty ‘Jack Russell Terrier’/King Charles Spaniel-in-disguise) by her side.

[Five minutes later.]

Bang - back down to earth. The dog was sick.

Note: To The Lady of the House: Fever or no fever, next time, pull yourself together. Do NOT allow dogs in the bedroom.

Last Modified : October 12th, 2008 Filed under : germs Navigate : Previous post / Next post