Not just the blogs got away; the minutes and hours slipped by, too. I sat with Matt “watching” with one eye Casino Royal (the one starring Daniel Craig for the first time, looking younger and very fit). With the other eye I went through another folder of seed beds. Some of them I have dealt with some, some of them no longer interested me or applied or were old hat, some I kept. I went to bed before the torture-beating scene began— can’t stand that. So I didn’t actually write a blog but you were with me.

Too many notes about writing thank-you letters. I alienated a granddaughter-in-law with my concerns about that by-gone remnant of courtesy. And cursive writing has disappeared, again with regrets on the part of an older generation. I actually read one article that predicted the passing of the last letter ever mailed. No one will notice.

Then there are various takes on the Queen’s Handbag. I’ve written one or two myself, speculating what is in that royal appendage with its sturdy handle. No money certainly, a handkerchief certainly , one beautifully made by a firm that has served the royal family by appointment for a century or two, and used not for royal snot but for dabbing at a shiny nose in a hot climate, not that I have every seen that done. What else? No make-up. I wonder if it would be appropriate or useful to carry Mace or a shrieker? Probably not. There are bodyguards who look after that sort of thing. No keys, no driver’s license because not necessary in the circumstances. Pictures of her grandchildren—greats now. Who is she going to show them to? No gum. Maybe breath mints.

Poor lonely handbag.

I went to bed.