*exhales*

OK, Secretary of State has arrived, been picked up at the airport in style, already checked into hotel, and now they're off to a series of meetings. I went to the hotel this morning, to check the rooms (better safe than sorry) and make the arrangements for tomorrow's working breakfast. Seating order for tonight's dinner at the residence has been decided (who ranks higher, the deputy governor of the National Bank, or the Spanish Ambassador, whose country still holds the EU Presidency? we decided for the ambassador). My subtle hint re. not serving two courses of the same colour one after the other -- pumpkin soup and salmon -- was taken, so we're going to have green soup. No idea what it's going to consist of, but it will be green. Instructions have been given to all and sundry, so everything should be fine. (And no, don't ask me what the wife is there for...)

Boss has been officially upgraded to sainthood.
Last night he called me at 7, voice very shaky, an asked whether I knew a good vet.
Yes, of course. What's the matter?
The neighbours have a little dog, and it seems to have been hurt. The poor animal can't walk, and all the people have done was to bandage its legs. Now it's lying there, unable to move, and yowling. I can't stand it anymore, I have to take it to the vet.
This before he had to go to a reception at 8.
And he'll pay for the operation.
If I hadn't loved him dearly before, I'd do so now.