Work

Kate tried out a couple of spare chairs in the tea room (trying to find an alternative to the executive director's throne she currently uses, that the pregnant lady finds difficult to squeeze past). Nearly fell off with shock when attempting to adjust the back and the seat tipped forward - felt a bit like an ejector seat apparently. Finally managed to find the correct lever for the back but couldn't then get it to fix in any one position. Gave up in the end. We were chatting about Glastonbury (watched it TV) and Shirley Bassey's wellies in particular - DSB in diamonte down the sides (D for Dame). Then heard a little voice from the wireless telephone reciever. Presumably it had accidentally rung someone (trying not to blame the telephone operative here) who was now desperately trying to attract our attention, no doubt driven to distraction by the inane depths the conversation had fallen to. Then Kate told me about the time in Dulwich when she was attempting to buy a slightly broken umbrella. Couldn't find her purse so James Nesbitt who just happened to be standing behind bought it for her. I always thought he was a nice man (more cold feet than Mruphey's Law).