No matter how I tell it, I think it is self-evident that any day which has cleaning the bathroom as its main exciting feature is not going to make for a thrilling read.
We have been to the bank and put some cash in it, bought bread and milk and posted some things to Lucy which she had forgotten. After that things went a bit quiet.
We have not been to work tonight. This is because almost nobody at all – and quite possibly actually nobody at all – books their holiday in the Lake District for the first Tuesday in January, and in consequence there is not a great demand for taxis.
We did work last night, if you can call the process of sitting drinking tea on the taxi rank and reading library books working. We went out much later than usual, at eight o’clock, but it was still half past midnight before either of us got a job. This was all right, because it is exactly what we expect to happen and it gives us lots of time to do things that we want to do, like, for instance, cleaning the bathroom.
In fact January is really our annual holiday. Lots of hotels close and the staff go home, and the Lake District becomes really quiet whilst everybody cleans their hotels and throws away the stained duvets and paints out the dirty finger marks. We are doing this as well. We have ordered a new gear box for Mark’s taxi, which it badly needs because the other one is not working at all well, and the taxi will not go into some gears any more. Mark thinks that he will give it a service while he has got it in bits as well, which he might as well because it is not going to go very far for the next week or two.
It is not yet in bits because his workshop is full of the camper van, which is in bits. He is busy sawing up wood and organising his workshop whilst he waits for parts to arrive, and by the time tourists start thinking that Windermere would be a lovely place for a spot of romantic holiday-making with any luck he will have a tidy workshop and a stack of logs and a mended camper van and a taxi which goes no matter which gear you fancy having a bash at.
I washed all the sheets and cleaned the bathroom. This is a major project because Mark’s shaving brush leaks badger hair everywhere, and also because of the black mould.
It was the day for scrubbing black mould out of the middle floor today. I did the front door, which looked much better without its horrible hairy fingers of black mould reaching all the way up it, but unfortunately still does not open because of being swollen shut with damp. If somebody wants to deliver a parcel you have got to let the catch off and shout at them through the letter box that they have got to shove hard. Some postmen are nicer about this than others.
When Mark got back we had the marvellous luxury of an empty evening stretching in front of us. We can do nothing at home without any guilt at all at the moment, because the swimming pool is still closed due to too much lake in it, and so being fat and lazy is unavoidable and we have got little choice other than to loaf about eating things and drinking wine.
We sat in our rocking chairs and watched another couple of episodes of the Game Of Thrones, which is the bloodthirsty soap opera that we have been watching. It is about people who would all like to sit in an uncomfortable looking spot called the Iron Throne, and it has us absolutely gripped. It was so exciting that I had got to cover my eyes with my fingers sometimes, and it took an enormous effort of will to not watch any more but to save the last few episodes so that we have still got something nice to look forward to over the next couple of weeks whilst it is quiet on the taxi rank.
It is a terribly exciting DVD. When we have watched it we go to bed talking about who might do what next, because now it has got past the bits where we have read to in the books, so it is a complete surprise all the time.
It is splendid to have such a thrilling life.
