I do not wake up in a house because I wake up in  flat. This is council flat what has two bedrooms, but second bedroom does not have bed. Instead it have all the bits of Brian's motor-bicycle, on floor. This because no garage is there to this flat. And although flat on ground floor Brian is unable to get motorbike in in one piece so he dismantle it. This is not satisfactory. Not only for Brian, because if he want to ride machine he must take outside and re mantle before he can use, but also if marriage is happening.
I tell Brian, if we marry I want room to myself, personally. No problem, says Brian, I will remove bike - all bits of it -  and also clean oil off linoleum.

But I also remind Brian that my mind is not yet made up on this important venture. No problem, says Brian. Take the time you need. (I find irritating how he have habit to say - no problem, all the time.)  But never mind. I have known in past several gentleman with much worse habits)

Anyways, what I am telling you, Georgie, is that nothing has been settled - nuptually speaking. (I do note what Purple Cow is saying, about marriage bringing her out in rash. I myself have sufferred from these problems - as I have told you previously in this blog.)

Thing is my sweet, I am worried about being departed back to Sweden where I am being pursued by authorities on little matter of tax discrepancies. Of course, if you were to be in postion to offer the institution of marriage to myself then no problem would there be. (see how I get into Brian's 'no problem' habit. I must get out of same habit.).

But do not distress yourself, my lover, things have a way of working themselves out, if we give them a lttle time.

Brian cook dinner last night - for the treat, so he tells me. Not much of treat. He did that cabbage which is very dark colour of green and has great thick veins which are reminding me of the duck's web foot. I cannot eat this muck. The lamb chop was okay, and he bought bottle of wine, so dinner tasted better as we progress.

I will close now as sun shines on Purley and I will take short walk to laundromat.

Aching for you, as ever,

Your Anna