It was, almost as a matter of course, not one of her better ideas. Although, having said that I must – at this juncture – point out that I, without any shadow of doubt whatsoever – always see her ideas as being some of the best, if not the best, ever put forward in the history of civilisation.
It is – obviously – that circumstances conspire against her and she should – under no circumstances be regarded as at fault when this universe fails to live up to her - somewhat rather exacting - standards.
Now, as was the one with the badminton racquet and the flippers, it fell to me to stand next to the bed, while she gave the watermelon a final polish* before preparing to bowl it towards where I had – I thought, at least – arranged the tins of mackerel fillets in tomato sauce in a rather artful arrangement.
Say what you like about beauty, and art and aesthetics, but I do honestly believe – and not only while she’s looking – that there is no finer sight in this universe than a stark-naked (except for the obligatory fur trapper hat, of course) lady of a certain age standing on a bed in the privacy of her own bedroom, preparing to bowl a highly-polished watermelon at a stack of mackerel fillet tins.
As I’m sure all red-bloodied males would agree… especially if within her earshot.
But then, just as all seemed perfect, we suddenly realised it was time for the next episode of Downton Abbey, so what could so easily have been a perfect moment was ruined by the vagaries of TV scheduling. It is – as I’m sure you would agree - about time they did something about it.
* Not a euphemism