Ash Wednesday brings my first Pensioners’ Lunch Club duty for some time. Menu, clientele and own fundamental unsuitability for waitressing role remain reassuringly unchanged; explain repeatedly to everyone on every table that a) no, I have not yet moved b) no, really, nobody has yet wanted to buy our house and c) no, I don’t yet seem to have brought the coffee or tea that they asked for several minutes ago. Feel huge surge of relief once it is all over and the Urn is finally emptied; try to explain this to fellow-helper as we walk home and she tells me that she really enjoys her sessions and is very happy to help out when she can and she only wishes she were able to do more.
Feel suitably penitent as head to church this morning. Second Sunday Of The Month means it’s the informal Family Service; various adorable children answer what I consider to be rather difficult questions about Journeys, an eight-year-old plays Morning has broken on the piano, recognisably, and the whole service is over in about forty minutes. Discuss weather, alms ladies and bathroom tiling before heading home in howling wind to help younger son with his Extended Project Qualification work (not quite yet overdue) on legal wigs.
Daughter already home from university for Easter holidays. Appears to be in excellent form but is not quite as excited about my new sink tidy as I had hoped.