Ernestine and I went to a cafe for lunch. I ate a baked potatoe with beans, sour cream and avocado. She opted for a cucumber sandwich. With Xavier out of the way we were able to get to know one another a little. She does have a rather enigmatic quality. You are never quite sure what she's thinking. I'm sure she disapproved of my menu choice but she is too much a Lady to let on.
Her interests are Romantic poetry and walking, preferably in some suitably evocative natural setting. She showed loathing, in fact, an almost morbid fear when I raised the subject of decoupage. I'll know better than to mention that again!
She also seemed perplexed by Xavier's outburst at the markets. He got into a rather unpleasant shouting match with a South American stall holder after asking for a discount on a poncho. Xavier was heard to loudly declaim 'but I can tell it's not Alpaca', whilst the stall holder , quite justifiably in my view, retorted with some ripe language and a shaken fist. I managed to extricate Xavier before a real stoush ensued but I fear I will have to protect my precious flower, my little dumpling Ernestine, from his pugnacious influence! Still he is a good friend, one I wouldn't mind having at my side if it ever comes to the point with Unbeing. Mercifully he has not been sighted in days.