So I arrived at the church hall where I was due to speak to a group of ladies about my books. Sitting in the car outside I prayed quietly, 'Lord, please help me to cleak spearly. You see, Lord, how much I need your help!'
In the kitchen I found some ladies, explained that I was the speaker for the night and could they introduce me to the organiser, Gwynneth - our only contact had been on the phone. They led me through to the hall where Gwynneth looked up, saw me and said, 'Oh no, not you!'
Which isn't as bad as it sounds as I replied similarly, 'Oh no, you!'
Gwynneth, it turned out, was one of the quilting ladies who meet at Linden and with whom I regularly chatted when I was in the office. Neither of us knew the other's surname or recognised the voice on the phone. Relaxing was easy after that and the talk went well with the audience laughing at the right moments, asking questions and seeming to enjoy.
Afterwards, as well as tea and cake, sandwiches left over from a lunch held in the church that day were brought around. When everyone had had their fill and the organisers were wondering what to do with the leftovers I piped up, 'I'll take them. I'm an impoverished author you know.' (No, I didn't add the last bit but explained hurriedly I was going on to Zac's and they'd be eaten there.) And in the heat of the moment and bathing in the success of the evening I offered to go back another day and talk about Zac's. My mouth has this dreadful habit of speaking without consulting my brain, which, were it to be consulted, would remind it of the stress I go through prior to these talk things.
So, from there on to Zac's where I arrived at about 8.50 and all seemed calm. Steve was leading and it wasn't until nearly the end and a non-regular began speaking that I sensed a tension. The way he spoke you could tell it was going to culminate in a criticism of Steve - and it did. Steve dealt with it by saying, 'That would be a good point to end,' and praying.
I dragged him outside afterwards, where it was quieter, and said, 'Come on, tell.' And he told a story of strife and fall-outs and chaos, adding gleefully, 'And it's over to you next week!'
Now that's something to look forward to.
* * * * * * * * * *
Wednesday, Thursday down to Devon for some grandchild-minding. Swimming on Thursday morning and GrandDaughter, in arm-bands, managed to swim a width of the pool! Much delight.
Then Friday it was the wedding of the daughter of some friends. Husband did such a good job videoing the wedding in Kefalonia of the older daughter that he'd been asked for a repeat performance while I just had to turn up.
I haven't mastered the art of dressing up for an occasion. Happy that I'd bought a dress I sat back forgetting that a 'lady' should have complementary shoes and handbag. The shoes and bag I had didn't match each other let alone the dress but 11 o'clock Friday morning before a 12.30 wedding wasn't a good time to realise this.
But I felt comfortable and that was all that mattered.