Sunday 20th December 2020

Tomorrow the Shortest Day – then back up the other side.

Robert Nevil and Sebastian Archer have been staying since they demolished their bathroom. Sometimes we are Royalty, especially on first greeting each day. Curtseying is required. How exhausting it must be at Court – up from chair, then down to the ground, every time a Royalty looms, equal to any fitness regime. Robert Nevil expects a full plunge to the floor. In the afternoons Robert Nevil and I launch out. Then we are two maids of the Up Down type on their afternoon off, with a remarkable range of opinions on urban architecture. In between times we’re picking over our Landed Gentry forebears and their secrets – the suicides, the drunks, the unmarrieds. When alive nothing was mentioned but now their brushes with the law could not be more apparent from the lightest of Google-ing.

The Nevil/Archers are bitches for quizzes. I couldn’t believe it. They can solve the wall and get the missing letters and work out the sequences. So brainy. Sebastian Archer can do Maths and Science of course but Robert Nevil is a sharp little Emily too. All those hours staring at the credits after the film’s finished have paid off. He can probably remember who the Second Gaffer was on Taxi Driver. They love it. Fingers on the buzzers.

But strange ideas about food. The Nevil/Archers seem to think food should always be nice. Not my idea at all. When dining privately at home my objects are: economy and weight loss. We didn’t live through Two World Wars to waste food. I made a Re-boiled. That’s one of those Tuscan recipes for using up old bread which is really the core of Tuscan cooking. In the end I had to force it down them rather like those poor geese being fattened for foie gras. The next day we had Papa di Pomodoro which is the same thing but without the cabbage. They didn’t think much of the Chouxfleur aux Yoghurt avec Olives Noir either – even though I sprinkled za’tar over to give it lift.

Sebastian Archer stuck back by returning from Neal’s Yard shop with £500 worth of cheese.

Another day we had lemon sole which cost £40. One piece was left over and almost not eaten. That would have been £10 wasted.

The other thing is the chocolate for which they are fiends. Bars in odd places all over the house, in case of sudden need. I never have choc except for visitors or if things get really bad, like one little bar with coffee in the drawing room after lunch. But they had 40 or 50 slabs on the go all at once. Luckily their choice is mostly from Planet Organic – Lemon Grass and Kelp, Sea Thorn and Henbane, Kale and Raspberry…. Doesn’t anyone ever like to say it – this stuff is inedible. In fact, worse. I took a tiny tablet one day and was flung across the room with the vileness. Poison. Any more would have been fatal. How one longed for a Lindt Full Milk Cream.

Such talks though. Sebastian v. pandemic different. Superb. Now they’re gone I’m bereft. But I’m getting a technology upgrade. Sebastian has bought me a new TV and I’m to have a thing called a Sound Bar which will beam all over the house and mean I can get rid of all other devices and their beastly wires. I’ve only just caught up with CDs and Digital Radio but that’s totally gone out now.

The only thing is no Sound Bars to be had for the moment because of the blockade. I hope I live to get one.