Sandra Aragona
Wednesday 14 October 2020
BUT NEVER FOR LUNCH – SANDRA ARAGONA
Further exploits of an undiplomatic Beagle now in retirement with her owners and not even Trying to Behave. Whilst our former Ambassador endeavours to maintain his standards of sartorial elegance and diplomatic sensitivity, Madame revels in the liberty to refuse a luncheon invitation, ditch the high heels and head for the countryside. Beagle of course never really tried to behave in the first place, but released from the constraints of Embassy protocol, she indulges in her own vision of heaven, be it exercising young racehorses, chasing cats up trees or simply peeing on the roses.
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entertaining.
Got it, she said, and made straight for the front door. Deaf as a post but understands every word you say.”
Travelling in India: “You have to respect a camel.
Anything
which can look so damn supercilious and make you feel so damned inferior whilst
looking down at you from the top end of an S-bend has to be admired for its
sheer aplomb.”
Grandchildren: “I suggested we
might all go to the Zoo. Grandfather, (His former Excellency), set the tone by
getting lost before we were even through the turnstile. He finally caught up
with us after I had put out a lost child announcement and requested that he
should make his way to the restaurant where his mummy would be waiting for him.
He was not at all amused.”
Monday 4 February 2019
DELAYED
I have to confess that my Christmas tree hasn’t actually found its own way back into its very dilapidated box quite yet, presumably because it is hoping to meet up with the budding branches dripping with multi-coloured Easter eggs on its way out. Also it only seems like yesterday that I was unwrapping coloured balls and partridges without pear trees and turtle doves a-perching and glass baubles from the Highgrove shop, (well we do a naice class of Christmas kitsch when we put our minds to it. How many people do you know with HRH's baubles on their plastic, sorry, ecological Christmas tree? In Rome?) Hooray for small things and may they never grow up and be too old to appreciate a chocolate sovereign or a soon-to-be earless bunny hanging from a droopy branch.
It began with a string of Whatsups on a group chat between myself and the daughters, following my 'umble request to know how many people wished to sleep chez nous over Christmas?
Daughter No 1 (sent from a swimming pool in Morocco) : "all 3 of my kids if poss. "
Daughter No 2 (from her office, working her butt off) : "um - thought maybe just my 2 little ones, so that I could hit the shops together with my sister...."
I wait 20 mins till they get desperate for an answer and tentatively start wondering between them whether the parents couldn't possibly go out and buy a bigger house with a couple more bedrooms? Then I put them out of their agony.
No probs, guys. Mattresses spread over the floors and warning notices will be posted to Father Christmas when he comes down the newly swept chimney because otherwise he might trip over all the bodies.
Question: Why do all my friends keep moaning about how much weight they put on over the Christmas period? I lost two and a half kilos and haven’t been able to stomach anything fizzy for a month.
Now that IS tragic.