after various apologising etc we ended up having a good weekend - not at all marred by dinner in the dining room of the Peninsula, a very old-fashioned and expensive place with a band, crystal chandeliers, mirrors, well-dressed staff etc. one got quite sloshed on one's 1/2 bottle of Australian red. the evening finished nicely with the band playing Whiter Shade of Pale and the discovery that it's not the "mirror told its tale" but "the miller told his tale." I like my version better.



and we were joking about how I should have married a really rich, older guy (dh is younger) and he said "you'd have to go through the trauma of a funeral" and I said "that's not trauma, it's a photo opportunity." take that, Anna Nicole.