The kitchen has been a scone factory for the past days ready for the Cream Tea in aid of Emmaus on Sunday. ( I have discovered that scones are improved by being frozen for a bit before being warmed up on the day) As usual I am tormented by the thought that no one will turn up or it will pour with rain, but there is also a picture in my mind of a glorious sunny afternoon, mounds of strawberries, with great bowls of cream and delicious scones, and every body having a lovely time.
Everbody keeps on about Wimbledon and assume that I know what they are talking about. I have never understood the rules of tennis, and have always been incapable of playing ball games, so I find it difficult to make an intelligent comment. I will be glad when its all over.