What will be, will be.

Five past twelve I got up: a lie in. I don’t do lie ins, it just isn’t me. Up with the lark, things to do; places to go etc. etc. But, 12.5 – the afternoon! I now figure proudly in the decline of Western Civilization; roll on the last days of Rome, Caligula Rees is ready to take his place in the apocalypse. Over reaction? Well, with two sets of people arriving to view the house, the first scheduled to push the door bell at 3.30 pm, the time allowable for cleaning was perilously small.

The house, was, however, after some differences of opinion, pristine (well, clean) by the time the first battalion arrived. The viewing team of husband, wife and daughter seemed frighteningly professional: as soon as they arrived and I casually mentioned that there was a side entrance to the back garden, the whole troop of them were off at a gallop to see if it were true. The experience of the house was, therefore, a bit back to front, not really what I had planned and certainly not was Toni thought was the right way to do it. When they had left I was asked, very pointedly by himself, if I realized my ‘big mistake.’ Yes, you’ve guessed it: the mentioning of the side entrance: the unfinished side entrance; the non-the-best-aspect-of-the-house side entrance.

I felt when they had gone ( having spent all of five minutes looking around the house,) that they would not be proceeding any further with a purchase. I understand from Halifax that the guy is looking for an investment opportunity and has the money, virtually, to hand! That would be a delight. But I didn’t feel that there was the click of ownership about them.

We barely had time to draw breath (well, twenty five minutes actually) before the next onslaught: this time, a divorced woman and her mother. They were altogether a more relaxed contingent to deal with. They went where I wanted them to go, made cooing sounds in all the right places and also had the same colour blue (found in our downstairs cloakroom) in their house too.

Ironically, their departing comments concerned the cleanliness of the house and further comments on the inability that they had to keep their homes clear of clutter! If they only knew!

We now have to wait. It’s worse than waiting for exam results because with exam results you only think that they are life changing because the educational establishment keeps telling you they are so; whereas with real money from the sale of you house – this is life changing, and in my circumstances more than doubly so!

We are now sitting on our respective sofas with our respective laptops like hi-tec characters in a rewrite of a play by Jean Paul Sartre waiting to go to Mike and Angela for a much anticipated meal.

This will be the first time that I will have gone to Mike and Angela's new house and it has been far too long a time since I had a Gray meal. My anticipation is tinged with apprehension: what has she cooked, and will Toni be able to eat it? I will take a few bottles of wine so that the sharp dig of concern will be alcoholically blunted!

I know that the two Pauls and Mod and Tony will be there: any others? Later I’ll add any further participants and allow you to drool over the menu.

I was wrong about the participants in the meal: Mod and Tony were not there, in their place were Babs (one of the Witches) and Con; we were also joined by Olivia. Olivia had been going to be with her father, but she had not been feeling well and that, together with a desire to see her favourite teacher (Babs) meant that she was there when we arrived.

Angela did not disappoint: a meal with an Indian flavour. Rice, chicken with spinach (the spinach flavoured in a way which I have not had before); lamb in a spicy sauce; parokas (?); chicken kebabs, and prawns to die for. They were like small lobsters and had a chilly kick in them which made them irresistible. I had seconds! Well, no news there then. Other people did as well, so you can't point all the greed fingers at me. The postre was pineapple with ice cream. All in all a delicious meal which has left me more than replete.

The revelation of the evening was Olivia's voice: she has a voice of authority and considerable flexibility, if she could read music she would have an immediate career as a session musician singer. She has been accepted in some sort of singing school for next year, so she has a real incentive to learn to read music: this could be the key to the rest of her career.

The snippets of news from my last school (ah, that word 'last' has so many interpretations!) were interesting, but it is also fascinating to find out how little the import of quite important revelations have on me. It seems as if my late career is old news, something seen through a glass darkly. As it should be!

It's very late, but I must admit that I have enjoyed the discipline of having to complete this section of my blog.

Tomorrow I must listen again to the intriguing telephone recording from Jonathan in Grand Canaria. He has now sold Toby's Bar in the Yumbo Centre and has given me his mobile phone number. He has not been in touch for some time, and this sudden contact is interesting. Also, tomorrow, I wonder if there will be any news about the house?