Breakthrough Breast Cancer Coffee Morning in village hall; arrive in scruffy raincoat, clutching slightly burnt lemon drizzle cake, and find everyone else in glamorous pink apart from one lady who had been expecting the market and nipped out in her gardening clothes to buy sausages. Feel immediate bond, and spend next hour with her discussing trees, melanoma, and food-shopping in France. Joined by another new lady who asks me how old my children are, then says that she Feels For Me.
Conduct umpteenth double-checking of questions and answers for Horticultural Association Quiz Evening tomorrow. Am unreasonably plagued by fear of challenges – though question master assures me that he will take A Firm Line – and feel compelled to find at least three authoritative sources for each answer. (Wonder, not for first time, whether lack of job means that am perhaps Losing Perspective.)
Looking forward to half-term; as I told the lady this morning, the children are Actually Not That Bad.