I have had such a troubling day.
Nothing has actually gone wrong, but I have worked myself up into such a terrible state of anxiety about the things that have gone right that I might as well be staring into the teeth of terrible peril anyway.
I have booked our holidays.
You might remember that earlier on in the year some bad-tempered complaining on my behalf led to Disneyland Paris offering us a couple of days and nights on the house as a present to get me to shut up, which I did.
We decided that we would go in April next year, and thought that if we were going to go over there anyway we would splash out and pay for a couple of nights as well, giving us a four-night holiday in an actual hotel as well as the travelling time.
Mark went off to the farm this morning whilst I stayed behind and rang the eternally upbeat Disney telephone line.
After saying Hi and wondering just how she could be of service to help me explore the Magic, the lady on the phone listened carefully, and then explained that sure, she could do that, and guess what? they were doing a special offer at the moment, and I could book the two nights but then as a really, really, special Mickey thing, I could have two more Magical Bonus nights for no extra cost.
I considered this for almost ten seconds.
I booked two Magical Bonus nights as well, giving us a total of six nights in the Disneyland Hotel for the price of two.
This is not exactly a budget holiday, because even two nights are jolly expensive, but nevertheless it is still pretty good. It is so unlikely that never in my wildest dreams had I imagined that we might be spending six whole nights in any hotel anywhere, never mind at the big pink hotel at the Disneyland gates. Usually we can manage two or three nights on holiday and then we run out of funds.
I paid the deposit and then before I had time to worry about it I borrowed Mark’s credit card and booked the ferry.
I felt sick then. Of course it is a jolly lovely thing, but it is such an awful lot of holiday all at once, as much as we have in a whole year all together usually. When I thought about it a bit more I realised that we don’t have enough clothes to last for six days of holiday all at once.
After I had flapped about worrying about that for a bit I went over to join Mark at the farm, who was starting to do the work on the camper van’s cab and the engine. I explained that I had booked it on a ferry in April and so he would have to get on with it and make it work.
This was worrying as well.
He wanted me to help him take the windscreen out. This was scary because it is huge and curved and might have cracked, but we were very careful, and it didn’t.
He took the windscreen out, and then the bonnet off, and the side panels and the doors off. He took the seats out and the dashboard out, and then it was all very empty indeed, except for an enormous oily deceased engine.
There was a great deal of rust. Mark said that he would repair the holes first and then take the old engine out.
I am very glad I am married to Mark, because almost everybody else in the world would have looked at the massive amount of rust and said that it could not possibly be fixed and our lovely camper van would have to be sent to the scrap yard. I looked at the huge holes and felt very sad to see it all looking so crumbly, but pleased that it was getting fixed now before it fell apart for ever.
Later on we all met up together on the taxi rank, and Number Two Daughter was having a rubbish day because of having hurt her shoulder and not being able to practice pull-ups. I told her about my reckless holiday booking worries, so as not to be left out, and Mark told her about having a camper van made out of rust.
Number Two Daughter said I would have to do washing in the sink and peg it out on the balcony. Mark said that it would be fine, because if the children got sick of Disneyland we could go and see Paris again, because we like Paris. We all thought that there are worse things than spending so much time at Disneyland that you get fed up of it.
The children might get fed up but I won’t. I like Disneyland.
I am just having some anxious moments.
