The non-musical climax of the day was being presented with my Christmas present. No, not next Christmas, last year's present. This is not a record: my 2003 birthday present is apparently "somewhere safe", which is her euphemism for "lost".
Anyway, what a lovely Christmas present it is too: a Penguin Books deckchair, which is permanently installed in my drawing room as I have no garden. Stylish and comfortable.
6 comments:
Drawing room? What drawing room? Come to think of it I'm not actually sure what a drawing room is but I'm fairly certain you don't have one.
I mean the bit of my flat marked out by a rug and a broken sofa.
Ahh. On reflection I've realised that my definition of a drawing room has something to do with if I could imagine Hercule Poirot in said room explaining a dastardly murder to some people from the 1930s.
That's exactly the image I wished to convey. How I wish I had a drawing room like that.
I do love a good drawing room! My mother-in-law has a fabulous specimen. I think the key is no television... then you're getting into sitting room/den/lounge/parlour territory depending on when/where you're from...
Agreed. A withdrawing room should be a salon for repartée, not a space for passive vegetating!
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