Lost and Found

I was going in to Waitrose with my trolley this evening when Maggie Hambling came towards me with hers full of shopping. I did a double take and caught her first look twice, hers saying "So you recognise me huh" and mine saying "You shouldn't be doing your own shopping, you're Maggie Hambling." I know, small things. Everyone's been talking about Victoria Wood, and how sad they feel about her death. Her humour was obviously universal, and we all have so many happy memories of her and her work, the comic and the tragic both. She really was extraordinary, multi-talented. What a waste. I had been thinking about Acorn Antiques before I heard the news, and wondering why I missed it at the time. A man on the television said he had bought the boxed set, and I've decided to do the same. It's never too late.

I've had a very fraught day. Sitting with a client, trying to sort through a huge pile of paperwork and talking to various government and other agencies on the phone on his behalf at the same time, I was assaulted by the non-stop sound of Hugo crying in the car outside. After a long while of trying and failing to concentrate, I excused myself, explaining why to my nice client, and went outside to move the car further away. The person whose offices in a different company now overlooked the noise complained to the manager who told me to bring him in, and he was perfectly angelic and calm. I even brought him in with me to see another client, who was very pleased to see him. Is this the answer? I think it will have to be or I won't last very long in the job. Everyone seems to think that he must get used to my way of life, but if he's genuinely anxious or frightened I don't think it's the right thing to do.

Sammy and I took both dogs to the beach again where Hugo must have covered miles, back and forth at top speed like a real boy racer. The two of us ended up minus hounds in the beach cafe with hot chocolate and lemon and poppyseed cake. I'm telling you, I'd earned it. But I was sad to discover my missing glove near where I must have lost it last week, a bit wet and bedraggled but also badly chewed by some dog or other. Little b*****d. Not like the walking boot I lost many years ago. It was a decent boot, one of a pair actually, a brown leather Chris Bonington one, and I gave it up for lost. I had no idea where it could be but surmised that it must have fallen out of the car after some walk or other. A whole winter went by as I mourned my loss, and then spring came, and one morning I parked as usual in a derelict car park at the AA in Basingstoke where I worked, and spotted something under some weeds. It was my boot! I took it home, overjoyed to be reunited with it, and although it was much the worse for wear, a bit squashed, I brought it back to health with love and lots of polish and plenty of stuffing. I still wear the boots now. I can never tell which one it was.