The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage and Yours Truly were relaxing in the living room after our Saturday evening repast. She was reading some woman's novel while I was following the exploits of Bertie Wooster and his gentleman's gentleman, Jeeves. Oh, that Bertie, what?
Nobody needs to tell me I cannot sing, although I have many fine friends who forward this information to me on a regular basis. It is as though there was a friend-wide conspiracy trying to convince me not to sing in public. Even the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage gets in on this act.