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Second Time Relationships

It’s all about to get exciting……and I’m not referring to the weather!

Batten the hatches down and put your Hard Hat on.  We seem to be about to hit stormy weather and there has been a bit of a Mexican stand off in our house this week, which is quite unusual as it was between Lovely Man ( LM) and myself.   

Its not often that he digs his heels in, but this week he did.  The reason for all of this angst was the “appearing meadow” in our back garden.  The weather being so mild at this time of the year had meant that the ” last cut for this year” had become rather academic and each morning I looked out, I could see that the grass was considerably higher than the day before.

Having asked LM to give it another cut he declared that ” it was done for this year” and it was ” fine!”.  Now ” fine” is not a word I like if only because its such a weak descriptive word and  so I continued to badger.  His response to that was to ignore me until I threatened to get the Llamas back in to give it a trim.  He scoffed at that suggestion but I could see that I had him on the run.  I had initially bought the Llamas to keep the grass under control by their continual grazing of it and to fertilise the flower beds.     However, Mohammed didn’t like Pete ( the male Llama) pushing his head through the dog flap and generally they had become rather bad tempered and unco-operative.  Far too much spitting had been occurring and no one had wanted to go near them, not even to feed them.    I also had to replace a few of the fence panels where they had had their fill of luscious grass and finished it off with my beech fence posts.  Yes, all in all it was a good decision of mine to get rid of the Llamas, but LM didn’t need to know that and if I wanted to get the grass cut one more time, I needed to keep the pressure up.

A few hours later I went out with my slippers on and having waded out to the deepest point of the meadow shouted that the grass was now almost up to my knees and if it kept it up growing like this I could, one day, find myself lost .  A round of cheers goes up from the Gallery.    It reminded me of the film ” Honey I shrunk the kids !”  I slunk down a bit so the grass appeared much higher than it really was, but the point wasn’t lost on him…. anyway Arsenal was just about to kick off so noting would be achieved in the following ninety minutes.

LM pretended he wasn’t listening and so I kept muttering about getting the Llamas back on loan, if only for the weekend.  The thought of Llamas and their cloven hoofs ( or is it hooves?) churning up his beloved lawn was enough to send him up in a puff of smoke and when he thought I wasn’t looking at “half time” I could see he was out there checking the mower. 

Meanwhile out on the front drive, it would appear to be a nice day so Obi thought he would give his car a wash .  Many of you may remember that Obi has a rather smart Range Rover Evoke which he never uses.  It has been parked up on the drive for many a long month and never used.  Added to that he has wrapped it in a ground sheet and tied it down in case of strong winds  This way he says it wont get wet; dirty or blow away.  However for some reason today he thought he would take the covers off – wash it and then…. and wrap it up again.  A 40,000 GBP car – never used – just unwrapped to wash and then wrapped up again.  You couldn’t make it up.

On day I said to him, ” Obi, doesn’t your Papa wonder about the car?  He was very generous to you and bought you a (BRAND NEW!!!! F F S ) top of the range car to get around England but sofar you don’t seem to have used it yet!  Can I ask why is that?”  

He thought for a minute and then said ” Well Miss Jackie, its a bit like you and the camels ( he’s talking about the Llamas!)  You don’t need a camel to cut the grass but they are there if you do.  And this is the same for my car.  I don’t need a car but one day I might and it is there ”   I decided I couldn’t argue with his logic even though some more saner parents might have just bought him a Nissan Micra…. and not a Range Rover Evoke!

I leave him unwrapping or wrapping, I couldn’t work out which it was in the end, when I hear a motor from the back.  I sneak to the kitchen window and it would appear that LM has taken me at my word and decided to mow the grass before I reinstate the Llamas.  Its a hollow victory for me because I know he will be grumpy from now until Tea time.

Oh well, at least the grass is at a more manageable level for the winter… 

cutting the grass


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An In-House Coup and yet more Lemons

I have had a super holiday.  Thank you very much.  Lots of trying out the languages ( I love it when we don’t spot a Brit for weeks!) and plenty of sun and exercise.  It was great.  I admit that I even impressed myself with my French and felt rather proud when I made myself understood in Italian without the aid of my hands or funny pictures or even Google Translate.    


However upon returning to chez nous I thought I had walked into something akin to a political coup.  What changes!  What surprises!  Firstly, my lovely bambini had been moved off the drive and used. After having the guts caned out of her, she was ceremoniously dumped on the pavement outside.  I don’t know why they couldn’t be bothered to return it to the driveway but I was quite worried when I was told that No 1 Son had borrowed it when his van broke down.  Getting a van load of equipment into a two seater sports car doesn’t bear fretting over because it will only raise my blood pressure, especially if the leather seats have been scratched but when Alaedene spilt the beans and told me that he had seen him driving it through the High Street like the phrase, ” drive it like you stole it Mate!” I admit to being slightly nervous.  I have yet to catch up with him. Number 1 Son, that is!

I also thought that Number 3 Son may grasp his chance of his escape whilst I was away and finally move in with his girlfriend.  I cant say I am overly pleased as he has dumped Uni and an expense free existence but its his life, not mine.  He has found a job and he says he ” really loves it” so I have to stand back.  So that’s one man down as you might think but sadly no.  One man down and another 3 in residence.  Yes, whilst No 3 son has moved out, it would now seem that Number 2 son has moved back ” I love being home again.  Its like a haven.  I always feel relaxed here!”

no 2 son

Well he may do but I am not sure I concur.  As having returned home, I found that he had snaffled away my best pasta

( okay, its only pasta but it was given to me by Andreas Ferret so it had a special place in my heart.  Sadly, the huge chunk of Parmesan also given with said pasta now resembles a chunk that even Mickey Mouse would sniff at ) and the batteries have been removed from the TV remote to be used in the once defunct Play Station 2. W T F????


To finish off my grand return, I hear news that Number 2 (ex) Husband is on his way for his yearly vacances and is currently en route from Belarus.  He always stays with his when he is in the UK.  Not sure LM is overly pleased about this arrangement but what can I do… its been going on for so long now.  However his arrival is not imminent today because as he usually drives from there to us due to the fact that he smokes so heavily he cant be without nicotine for even the short plane transfer it will be another day or so.   This means that all of my bedrooms are going to be in use but worse than that, I have no means of escape as even when I disappear to the Rompa Room, some bugger seeks me out and stands either talking to me, over my shoulder whilst I am trying to work ( beyond annoying) or brings in a cup of tea ( did I ask for one?/) and thinks that a cup of tea equals ” oh hello. Do come in. Pull up a chair and tell me your woes!”

So frankly, let me tell you, IT DOES NOT!!!  1b078-angryfaces8

On the first night of the holiday whilst we were dining out under the gaze of the Chateau at Fontainebleau, we had a text from Irma telling us that Mr NoseHair and her had a bit of a disagreement ( apparently it was one pinch on her bottom too many) and he was moving out one day earlier.  I asked where he was going for the last night and she told me that it was all sorted and he was off to his friend, Mustapha in Brighton and Mustapha had already saddled the horses and was on his way.  There was nothing I could say but it did taint the end of his stay and ruined the start of mine.


( yes I know the image is upside down, but pretend you are looking at the view from one of the many lakes surrounding the Chateau.  Works for me… )

So you can imagine my surprise when on my return to the Office I find that Mr Nosehair wants to return and in fact has increased his weekly hours from 15 to 25 – but no Irma to teach him.  As his demands are many; varied and GREAT we had to do a lot of calling in favours to get him placed.  In the end we asked the lovely Murielle to take him.  Murielle is French, as you probably guessed, but her English is faultless ( well better than mine at any rate) and she has an en suite bathroom to offer him.  Also being a Parisian she has a certain style about her that he will appreciate and it goes without saying that she is a super cook.  She will compliment her very bourgeois lifestyle with her socialist husband and his strident views which always makes for entertaining after dinner talk.  So whilst Murielle will be whipping up a soufflé in the kitchen, her husband can be putting the Brexit Vote Debate to rights with Mr NoseHair.  I do worry that Mr NoseHair may cause Murielle to combust in a puff of smoke but she reassures me ( endlessly) that she is capable of controlling any man after living with her husband for 40 odd years.  She also says that  as his main passion, after his lemons, is shopping, they can have many pleasant afternoons doing exactly that and she does, after all, know the best place to purchase a cashmere cardigan with leather elbows.   cullen-cashmere-cardigan-sweater-for-men-in-derby-grey~p~5087y_02~1500_2

After that resounding piece of evidence, and showing me her Costa Coffee Loyalty Card, there wasn’t a lot more to say.  After all, have you ever known an Egyptian man not get excited over a cup of espresso in Costa Coffee??

Talking of Brexit, as I briefly did, I was surprised how many people in Italy took my hand and commiserated now that we were ” on our own!”  However the real Biscuit Taker was a American chap from California who said how he sympathised with me over the decision and how he hoped it wasn’t the end of ” us Brits!”  He continued by saying that now we wouldn’t have the backing of the Americans he hoped that we would do ” okay!”.  I was about to drown him, because the conversation was taking place whilst I was trying to do a few lengths in The Med but thought better of it.  The easiest way to get rid of him was to say that I was actually in favour of it, which I was, and with that he looked at me in horror – forgot to close his mouth but did swim off in the other direction.  Okay, I admit I also said that I found it rather pompous of a lot of Americans when they assume that GREAT Britain can not function without the hand of America guiding them and that I for one thought that any war film produced by Americans should be issued with a Warning that it is ” pure fairytale” and the element of fact based events in most films produced by them makes Walt Disney look like Chainsaw Massacre.  Okay I probably did mix a few metaphors but it seemed to make the point and I noticed that the following morning at breakfast, when I went up to get my egg flipped at the poolside buffet, he hung back and tucked into the Muesli.

So back in the room, I am, slightly testy but ever so refreshed.  I shall bore the pants of you all very soon with pictures and anecdotes of our rather splendid European Road Trip

(ps…. I have just been rejected for adoption.  Well, I am not being adopted, I applied for it.  But the Dogs Trust would not let me take Elvis the Basset Hound away as they say he was of a rather nervous disposition and they didn’t feel that my household would offer him the best possible start in his re homing journey.  I admit to feeling rather taken aback and whatever suggestion I gave they brooked it!  I can tell you now, I am appealing their decision and if anyone would like to sign my Petition, please feel free to contact me.  I already have the backing of our local Councillor, although as the Dogs Trust said, ” if she works for you, I don’t think her opinion is particularly unbiased”.)  Elvis is pictured below with Sally his girlfriend.  I offered them both a home



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More tears than an ocean
I have been having a very interesting discussion with Farhad today.  I love him so much he makes me want to cry.  Farhad and I do a lot of crying together.
We usually manage to cry at least once a week, especially after his weekly Facebook post of the Shah.  He cries for the Shah and the fact that France and then us, by default, didn’t let him in. Because of this, his beloved Persia has fallen to ” infidels and shit heads”  His words not mine!  About this time,  he takes out a very white linen handkerchief and dabs his eyes.  This, in turn makes me cry and we both end up snivelling over the desks. I worry about him being homesick.  He says he will never be allowed to die there and then gets out the photograph of his grandmother who he said died in ” PERSIA” without him being able to say goodbye to her.  That is cue for another bout of tears, from both of us.  Its a bit like a Greek tragedy really.
 LM does a lot of sucking his teeth and glaring by this stage.  I ignore him.  He isn’t very empathetic.  Or even sympathetic come to that!
The rest of the Office think we are mad.  Aladene doesn’t like him ….. and Farhad doesn’t like Aladene.   Alaedene insists on calling him an Iranian – to which Farhad refuses to answer.  Once when Farhad had enough of it, he held up his religious token in front of Alaedene’s face and growled something in Farsi at him.

Alaedene all smiles, as his team has just beaten Farhads! 

Aladene in turned shouted ” Allah Akbar” or something like that.  Its true I didn’t hear clearly, but I am sure it was along those lines.  Its a very sticky truce they have.
Farhad is a very snappy dresser.  I have never seen anyone shine their shoes as much as he does.  In the summer when I make him, ( much to his chagrin) wear a company Polo Shirt he still has his shiny shoes on, although he does stop at wearing shorts and shiny shoes.. that is far too much.  Instead he goes for an Italian Loafer, similar to Tomasso’s

My Sobbing Partner

However, I do think Farhad is also an Agent Provocateur.  Once, Mr Wu said something along the lines of ” its the same for all of us British…” and Farhad immediately said he wasn’t British but Chinese, to which Mr Wu said he was Hong Kong /British Subject in that exaggerated Chinese accent that he sometimes puts on.  Mr Wu finished off with reminding us that he was, after all, a member of the Conservative Party.  A hush immediately fell over the office.  Whether it was out of respect or confusion at this remark, I didn’t dare ask!
If its a really bad day when Farhad has the group or excursion that Mr Wu wants, then Mr Wu annoys Farhad by telling him that he went to a party once in Hong Kong where he met the owner of Lacoste and told Farhad that his Lacoste polo shorts are not made in Paris on the Left Bank as he stupidly assumed, but actually in a Kowloon sweat shop and still sold for an inflated price to any idiot who will buy them.
The good news however is that I have to go to Cape Town ( again) . Yes, its a tough job but someone has to do it.  And, as always, I am happy to ” take one for the team!”   We have 45 French students arriving in February and I need to check everything is fine with the School there.  By way of contrast, we have arranged for them to spend two days in a local Township High School.  I don’t mind and I think it will be very beneficial, but the Agent is a trifle worried, so to reassure them I said I would pop over ( as you do…)
Also, as previously eluded to, I have a blood diamond languishing in a vault in Joburg. It was part of my previous life but that doesn’t mean to say that it should stay there forever.  The Pilot is due to be there at roughly the same time, so I shall fix a rendezvous with him and go and retrieve it. ( we both have to sign to get it out of the vault. F.F.S.)   He isn’t top of the list of people I want to see when I am there, but its a means to an end.    If anything occurs to stop it seeing the sunlight, he had better run fast…..


 Its a very nice stone, even if it is ” one in the rough” being neither polished or cut.  I initially wanted a square one but fell in love with the slightly odd style and have been told that once cut and polished, it will look just great.
Currently, I have no desire to cut or polish anything and aim to sell it on and try to get the tax back!  My main worry would be getting either that or the money out of the country, and yes, I have thought about driving up to Botswana and flying out under the radar!  As the Pilot will be flying down in a VVIP BBJ then he wont be subject to the same rigorous restrictions that I, flying economy, will have.  I have asked if I can cut him a deal and he take the diamond out in his Nav Bag but he merely looked at me and said
” Jacks.  Have you completely lost your mind?”.  I shall safely take that as a ” NO WAY JOSE!”
The best bit of that time will be staying in Simons Town, amply looked after by my two most favourite people in the world. Wayne and Margaret.  I am sure you can work out who is who from the photograph.  Ho Ho     I just love these people to death and they make me feel most welcome when I stay there.
margaret and wayne

Wayne and Margaret.  Two very decent human beings.

Simons Town is a wonderful coastal town, towards Cape Point and is steeped in history.
The town still has a wonderful colonial air about it and I covet the  second hand shops every time for wonderful gems from a bygone time. Usually, these gems are being sold by ex Rhodesians who have come over the Border hoping to regain some of that
” Happy Valley Life” they used to have.  Sadly, they have been relegated to walking, en masse, along the beach each morning in Fish Hoek, reminiscing about the good old days and bemoaning what has happened to them.  I don’t have a lot of sympathy, sad to say.

And talking of crying, every time I meet them again ( my favourite peeps ) I cry.  When I first arrive, Margaret looks me in the face and says ” Hello, Miss Jackie…welcome home!”.  And indeed, its just how I feel… a homecoming.  I just love her to bits

Before I sign off, a funny story from Margaret.  It goes like this..
“Well Margaret, how goes it?”
” Oh you know Miss Jackie.  Good and bad.”
“Are you liking your new home Margaret”
“Yes, Miss Jackie, but you know I have to pay for my power now.  I never had to before”
“Oh really Margaret.  What a shame.  But maybe that was because you used to hook it up to your neighbours supply”
( she smiles) ” Yes, Miss Jackie.  Maybe that is it”
“How is it now, Margaret, that Zuma is in power?”
She purses her lips…” Miss Jackie, I have never known such a mess.  That is what happens when you put a black man in power!”   ( and you will have seen what Margaret looks like, which was why her comment made me smile… )  She looked at me and winked.
Its one of the most wonderful countries I have ever seen.  A great contrast of beauty. Gentle and rough. Wonderful people, and somewhere, somehow, its in my blood.
It really is my second home – faults and all.  I simply adore it.  That’s it folks…
I shall leave you with my favourite song, currently.  🙂   
I bet you are all feet tapping after this…..   
The lyrics are just brilliant.  Simply brilliant.

And as they say in the veldt….  Totsiens!


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BIlly Bob and the game of cards

It was due to be a bumpy flight from JoBurg to Paris. Always seems to be when we cross the desert. No cloud. Thin air. I prefer the route straight up from Cape Town and along the coast but beggars can’t be choosers and I was begging a free flight back home.
No seats the previous day on a direct flight to London had left me with little choice so I swallowed my convictions and my pride and packed my bag. My current ” squeeze du jour” was flying a plane back to Washington but it had to make a stop over in Paris so I hopped aboard knowing I could get the Eurostar back to England easily from there.

I had no idea who the VIP was on the plane because we were never told and in fairness I probably didn’t need to be told. I was only jumping that ride and effectively nothing to do with the crew. I climbed aboard. It was mandatory on a free flight that I took a seat back in the crew quarters. I tried to settle down with a book; a gourmet dinner ( courtesy of the on board chef) and a film. Dinner done (and very tasty it was too) I snuggled down in the bunk and tried to sleep. It had already got a little bumpy and so I gritted my teeth and remembered all of my relaxation techniques. Nothing worked.

Having tossed and definitely turned for nigh on an hour I got up and made my way to the Salon. No one was in there. The lights had been dimmed so the secret passenger had probably already
“ turned in!” I thought it a good place to try to read. As I was bunking in crew quarters, I had a room mate and I didn’t want to disturb her as I knew she would have to be back on duty early that morning to serve breakfast with care and a smile. I looked out of the window. Dark. Black and with no lights shining below even though it was a very clear night. We must be going over the large open sandy expanse now, I thought. Oh dear…..

“Hey” a voice sounded through my thoughts and there before me stood a tall sandy hair chap with an open and engaging smile. ” How ya doin’?” he enquired and seemed genuinely interested in what my answer might be
” Just bracing myself for the turbulence ” I replied feeling stupid for actually voicing my thoughts
” Hey you dont wanna worry about that” His deep southern drawl was very attractive. Soothing and almost mesmeric. He continued, ” I have been on more flights than I care to remember and not once have I been in trouble. Got no reason to think it might happen tonight!. …Drink?” And from what seemed out of nowhere he pulled two tumblers and a bottle of Jack Daniels.

I wasn’t sure who this gentleman was and he didn’t offer an introduction. ” Cards?” he smiled and I felt my stomach flip. ” Nothing like a game of cards to take your mind off things eh?” and he picked up the pack on the table and started to shuffle. “
Whaddya play then honey?” he asked and I mumbled something along the line of Patients, Chinese Patients or even Crib. I suddenly felt like a Novice. I wish I could have replied Bridge or even Poker!
” Cribbage? Great. I love that” and he started to deal.
Conversation with sparse but the playing was frantic. Both of us determined to win each hand. Both of us concentrating. A few lumps and bumps from the turbulence which by that time had faded into insignificance but unexpected larger ones were rewarded with him taking my hand and stroking the fingers or simply holding it. An oddly intimate gesture but certainly not offensive – but maybe made easier by the copious amounts of spirits we seemed to be drinking, whilst intent on our card game.

The night wore on and we both wearied. We had not spoken about ourselves or our lives but concentrated on the game and by the time we were finished the turbulence had ceased and we were both weary.
” Well now little lady. I’m all done here and frankly bushed. I’m off to bed and think you should be as well. Thank you for the game”.
He stood up and stretched. He looked at me ” Oh I’ve forgotten my manners. I don’t think I introduced myself. ” He took my hand and whilst I thought he would shake it, he bent down and kissed it very gently. He looked up and smiled. ” I m Bill” by the way and with that he smiled, gave a short bow and wandered off back to his room.
He didn’t look back but he must have sensed, or probably just known, that I was watching him for he did a backward wave and disappeared from sight. I smiled and then broke into a huge grin.

Bill? Bill – you may just ask …..

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One Good Man from Internet Dating… which means a good step for Mankind

I  have been very quiet for the past six months which probably comes as a blessed relief to many. I have also had something of an Epiphany and find I am ( almost) a new woman. I am now at home baking bread in the evenings, pouring over cookery books; fluffing up curtains and watching Arsenal on the tele. Well, the reason is obvious, isn’t it? Yes, its a new man!   >b<  >b<

I had debated whether to continue with the Pet Theme at home and to add to it as I am now far too old to have any more children but the Arab Quarter were beginning to revolt. They only see the need to nurture animals if they can protect their homes or end up on the BBQ. I had forbidden Aladene to feed the cat four times a day in order to ” fatten him up” and knew that if I went away, there was a good chance we would be ” one man down” by the time I returned. ( ie one of the pets ending up as a meal instead of being part of it ) Now I didn’t want any Summer Uprising on my hands ( well it was June by this time! ) so I relented and allowed the chickens and Llamas to go off to Husband Number Three and his Small Holding.  Since the dissolution of our marriage he seemed to have formed a special attachment to being alone and all things natural. ….  ::)  ( although he told me this morning that he will still attend the Christmas Lunch )

This allowed me to fill the space. ie the affection in my heart with something other than a species with fur or feathers.  Rita had also been persuading me to get back on the horse ( so to speak) and get out and about and find a nice man… but hopefully one with a few more dollars in his pocket than the pilot used to spend on me! ( her words not mine, but ones I simply cant argue with ) Now most of you will remember that not only had the Pilot a few odd views on life, but he also was most terribly mean. There was only a very brief time when he was working away that I was allowed to use the Emergency Credit Card but once he saw that I had flexed it for a pair of $500 Gina Sandals then he arranged for the Bank to recall the same! He said it was in breach of the Agreement we had and Swarovski covered Gina sandles were certainly not a f ***ing emergency!

I digress.

Rita said I should extract myself from the kitchen sink and stop caring for a lot of boys ( currently 5 in my house! ) and find myself a man who was going to spoil me. I have to say that surprisingly the idea did not fill me with a lot of enthusiasm but I did agree to give it a try for the whole month of JUNE ONLY!!!!

To qualify for this and to show that indeed my heart was in it (NOT) I said I would sign up for Internet Dating and see what was about. I thought that as I was pushing sixty plus I shouldnt be too choosy. However somewhere between agreeing to do this and Rita having her third G & T ( well it is Tiffin Time sweetie and its only a small one !) I seem to have found myself well and truly signed up on some slightly, oh only ever so slightly upmarket dating agency and my picture was out there for all to see  :o
I thought I should aim low as I didn’t think I should be looking for anyone with their own hair; teeth or able to get an erection without Viagra. I also thought that I should keep topics neutral and I didn’t do the usual thing of emailing pictures of new lingerie I had bought for a first date and definitely didn’t ask if I should bring a toothbrush. No, I was going to keep this plain and certainly simple. Anyway the thought of some rather lacy “Agent Provocateur ” might just about tip some old crust right over the edge and I wont be responsible for doing mouth to mouth on the first date, however good looking he is.  Anyway I have since come to realise that paying over fifty quid for a pair of knickers is somewhat excessive when I can achieve the same look with three for a tenner from Tesco!   :bravo:

I admit to not being overly excited about it and left my profile open for all to see. By the end of the day I had a few enquiries and in the middle of it there was an e mail from “Lovely Man” asking if I was free for dinner on Sunday because he had really enjoyed the cyber exchange we had had during the day.

Now as I was out in Eastbourne from o6. sparrows fart until the sun was definitely over the yard arm I thought he must have got the wrong person. Before I could write back and suggest this to him, my mobile had gone and it was none other than lovely man on the other end. Okay so who gave out my mobile number because it certainly was not me!

Being lost for words is not something I am usually found to be capable off but somewhere along the line I thought maybe it would serve me in good stead just to listen. By the end of the conversation I realised that even though I hadn’t been e mailing him all day it would certainly be in my best interest to say I had and try to catch up quickly.

I also very soon realised that the house itself was eerily quiet with all male occupants ensconced in their rooms. Initially I took this as them all studying hard for ICAO Level 4 but by the end of the phone conversation with Lovely Man I knew they were in fact all hiding. And hiding over the exploits they had been up to whilst I was out all day

Now it wont take a lot for you all to catch up and realise that the reason I had a dinner date in a few days was simply because most of the Arab Mafia had been sneaking around my profile and indeed had written to a few suitable males on my behalf.  I wasn’t sure if they thought it a jolly good wheeze or were simply worried that I would break my resolve and invite The Pilot back to stay…

Whichever way around it was, I resolved to go on the dinner date on Sunday ( minus the slightly foxy lingerie ) and aim to have a good time . The rest, as they say, is history…. and Thank God for that!  ;)

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