Nob 11, 2009

Feast Day

I lunched with Admiral Kelly who can has come from Ankara. There is a story that he and his brother once had a quarrel and shortly afterwards met in Bond Street. They passed each other silently with their noses in the air but one of them came back, tapped the other on the shoulder and said, 'Excuse me, but am I right in thinking that your Father married my Mother?'

Countess of Ranfurly
Diary entry
November 12, 1943


I am quickly learning the cruelty of the phrase "cutting corners." It's not happy here, standing before the business end of the scissors. Meanwhile, there's a fiesta in the old town. My parents have prepared seven dishes. Can't smell a whiff.