Arrived this morning to another closely worded A4 sheet of instructions regarding the eventual appearance of the fireplace for Mrs S. To be fair there was included an apology for this degree of fussiness and a hint that this increases with age, "You must think I'm..."
Yes well, it's a far cry from Mr R for instance who left his front door unlocked having instructed me to do "Whatever you think best". Thereby trusting me to make any decision that came into my head with regard to the aesthetics, which he would then live with presumably for the next ten years or so.
Isabelle relaxes, glued to that formulaic '10 years Younger' thing on Ch 4 where normally some woman agonises over the eventual appearance of something, usually her face...
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