Across a crowded supermarket, I spot a sweetly familiar face. One, moreover, that I haven't seen for more than five years.
yes, we have been friends on Facebook for all that time and more - but how lovely to see my friend Heather face to face for the first time in simply ages. There among the racks of Florence & Fred's summer clothes, after exchanging exclamations of pleasure
at this unexpected meeting, we provide each other with a quick summary of Our Life And Times since last we met.
This is possibly a mistake: we have both
experienced challenging times over the last five years. We find ourselves grizzling in sympathy with each other - which isn't a Good Idea in the middle of a supermarket. Other shoppers eye us suspiciously as they try to negotiate their laden trolleys past
us without knocking us sideways. "So sorry to be in the way!" we keep saying, in between sniffs and snuffles.
We met all those years ago in a Weightwatchers
meeting. Heather was a Star Pupil; I, on the other hand, was always losing half a pound one week then putting the same half a pound back on the next week. All this time on, and I have completely Fallen By The Wayside while Heather not only looks fantastic
but is now a helper at local WW meetings, an inspiration to all. We decide we will meet up very soon and have a Proper Conversation over a cup of coffee. With skimmed milk, sweeteners if necessary and don't mention the doughnuts...
I hasten home to tell Mr B about my happy encounter with the past. He is sitting, like a king on the throne, in his new chariot, a bright ruby red wheelchair which I snapped up on Tuesday. "But it's
Arsenal colours!" protested my life-long Spurs supporter when I proudly introduced him to my latest purchase designed to make his life a little easier. "Ruby red!" I defended myself stoutly, "Nothing like Arsenal red..." I was rather pleased at how very knowledgeable
I managed to sound. Especially as I didn't really know what I was talking about.
Because I had spent so long reminiscing with Heather in Tesco's, there wasn't
time for my planned foray into the garden which means that I still haven't planted up my Sunflower plants in my giant Competition Flower Pot. This wouldn't matter but I planted Mr B's two days ago which means they have now had a head start on mine. You are
possibly thinking that I could just swap over flower pots but unfortunately back in the first year of our annual competition I made the mistake of decorating both pots by painting our initials on them, along with a few swirly bits. Picasso it is not.
The Duracell Bunny's birthday present arrives, delivered by Lofti. I know it is Lofti because the delivery company texted me to tell me when I could expect my parcel from
Toys R Us and by whom it would be delivered. The text was remarkably exact - my delivery would arrive any time between 13.21 and 14.21. That extra minute obviously makes all the difference. What's more Lofti wasn't. Lofty, that is. I greeted him by name (as
is my wont when I've been informed who to expect on my door-step. I'm never sure if this is appreciated or not but I carry on doing it notwithstanding.
I will wrap up the birthday present, ready to take with me on Sunday to Legoland where I am meeting the Birthday Boy, his parents and his older brothers for a second birthday celebration. None of the boys know where they are going or who will be meeting them
at their destination. I must remember not to be too disappointed if they are more excited to be at Legoland than to see me.
I can't be at tomorrow's birthday
party but I am assured that the Eldest of the (Not So Very Little) Welsh Boys will put in charge of the IPad and, via FaceTime, will ensure I feel as though I am right there at the party, wearing a party hat and singing Happy Birthday. Tunelessly.
An ordinary day. A chance meeting with a friend from long ago. An important delivery. A new purchase. A missed opportunity to get out into the garden. Great expectations
for the weekend ahead.
An extraordinary ordinary day...