Short and sweet one over here- much like me, according to the lamp post I sat next to at dinner yesterday.

“You can’t possibly have eaten enough,” he says, passing the tray of fancy food over my plate again. “You’re about the size of a hamster!”

Of course, when he eventually stood up and made Michael Jordan look like a fellow wheel spinner, I began to understand his point of view! That, and the fact that he and his wife generously aged Husband and I at “about 29″ and “not old enough to have three kids,” confirmed that they were clearly Angels of God sent into the world to tell happy truths.

Indeed. Can’t argue with that.

So yesterday was more fun than anticipated. The kids had gone to local friends’ houses straight from school and had a blast, whilst Husband and I enjoyed our first full eight hours dolled up, out and about together for a really, really long time. I mean, it was almost a shame to share the occasion with a bunch of strangers, you know?!

But even that was surprisingly fun.

It was my first wedding invitation as a clergy spouse- by which I mean that Husband knew the couple very well from Church and I was very much his plus one. We sat at a table with one other couple from Church and then an eclectic bunch of strangers, with whom we actually shared a great deal of belly laughs, drinks and jaw aches. It was a shame to leave at 8.

What’s more, when we did eventually say goodbye to the happy couple, the bride said, “it was nice to meet you,” in full earshot of Husband, who had been insisting all week that I did know them and had met them, despite not being at Church for 18 months.

So there you go!

Child-free conversation, good food (eaten peacefully!), good wine, good company, good compliments… and being right. What more could you ask for midweek?!

Full of such delight, I sent a photograph to my mother – who complimented my £5 Salvation Army dress but complained she couldn’t see my shoes. Well, being the first dress shoes I’ve bought new since the early 2000s (I generally inherit all of the ones my stylish mother now deems to high too wear!), I was more than happy to provide.

Which is when she hit me with this clanger:

I mean, just ignoring the two generations of adult women communicating via Emojis over here… WTAF?! (Which in this case stands for ‘What The Arranged Flowers?!’ Not what you were thinking…)

Seriously, what’s the deal with my new, high-street bought comfortably low formal shoes, please?!

Are they very clergy wifey?!

How much is too much?!

Do I even care?!

(NB: YES. This is clearly lighthearted fluff to distract from all of the harder stuff being wrestled with up there…)

Answers on a postcard!

Much love, take care 😏❤ xx