For some reason driving a taxi in a large woolly cardigan seems to make people think that I am a nicer person than they do when I am wearing a fleece.
I cannot at all explain this phenomenon, but nevertheless it appears to be true. Last night I was plagued by people telling me how marvellous it was to see a woman driving a taxi, and saying how brave I was because it was dark, and then, tiresomely, patting me on the shoulder or trying to kiss me on the cheek and saying how lovely I was.
This last is simply not true. I am not at all lovely when I am driving a taxi. Being lovely costs a fortune because everybody is trying to persuade you that they are deservingly misfortunate and should be given a special discount on their short journey between pubs.
I have been doing this job for a long time now and over time I have become completely impervious to woeful stories of hardship and penury, it is the meter price or walking, and no, I am not at all grateful for your intoxicated business for which you would like to pay me a special locals rate, actually I would prefer to sit on the taxi rank and knit.
This last activity is progressing rather slowly at the moment, largely because I had to unpick it for a fourth time last night and have had to start again today, when at least it was daylight and I could see what I was doing. I am optimistic about this commencement, however. I feel as though this one might be well starred, not least because I have checked it very carefully indeed lots of times to make sure it is not twisted or uneven or backwards, it is not at all as easy as you might think to knit round in a circle.
We had a fairly short bit of day going spare in between getting out of bed and setting out for work. Mark brought in logs for the fire, and I tidied things up and did some housewifely things like ironing handkerchiefs and grating the laundry soap.
I have come to like having handkerchiefs very much. Apart from not turning into a thousand bits of sticky fluff in the washing machine, I can make them flat and scent them with rosewater, so they smell lovely every time I blow my nose or sneeze, which I think is a great pleasure. After that I washed all the pots up and made a picnic.
We are having special healthy picnics at the moment, with more salad and fewer jelly babies. This is because I have found old age not nearly as awful as I thought it would be when I was twenty, and think that in balance I would probably like to continue having it for some time to come.
I know that in order to achieve this you are supposed to add a variety of leaves in to your diet which should not at all be mostly chocolate, and so we are trying this, although it would be fair to say that Mark does not especially like leaves much and stocks up his personal biscuit reserve from the garage occasionally by way of compensation.
He thinks I don’t know about this but of course I do, because somebody has got to tidy the wrappers out of the bottom of his bag. However it is all right for him to do this because of Mark doing lots of physical exercise like hauling logs and building walls, and he is in need of sustenance anywhere he can get it. Also there are only so many hours in any day and I just don’t have time to do as much baking as I think he would like.
In the end we managed to get all of our jobs done and took the dogs for a last stroll around the Library Gardens before work, where we managed to be by half past three, much to my satisfaction.
It has actually been quite busy. I have got lots of things to do to stop me from getting bored on the taxi rank, like writing to you, and knitting, and I have got an interesting book: but I have hardly had time to get on with anything much because of people interrupting me and wanting to get in my taxi.
I am going to stop writing now and have another go at the knitting.
The photo is the view from the road to the farm, I put it there because I liked it and also I have already used one of my knitting which has not changed very much at all at all since then. I will photograph it again when it is looking more spectacular.
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Want some help with your knitting? Next time you’re over here we’ll have a masterclass. Love, Mum.