This is just a very few words because it is jolly tiresome to try and write a diary when people keep wanting to get in your taxi.
It is Easter Cash Raising Week, and we are sitting stolidly on the taxi rank determined not to miss anything, however trivial, because it is double fares. I have brought back the French indifferent shrug as a souvenir from my holidays, and am using it on anybody who remarks in horror at the exorbitant cost of getting a taxi to go just around the corner. Most people seem to find it every bit as irritating as I do when the French use it.
I am not going to bore you with details of my day spent doing more washing, ironing and getting ready for work, because even I thought it was dull.
I didn’t even find the part when I put the newly-washed cushion covers back on the sofa especially thrilling. Mark has shaved the dogs. They are newly bald and shivering, and Lucy gave them a bath last night just to add to their dejection. This dog-abuse was at my instigation, because I have come home wanting to live in the Disneyland Hotel and not in a house which contains a smelly dog-flavoured sofa.
The dogs are the only ones who ever sit on the sofa. This is because Mark and I hardly ever get round to it, and on the rare occasions when we might it smells so horribly of dog that we don’t want to.
Since our return I have scrubbed it with dog repellent shampoo, sprayed it with perfume, washed the cushion covers and put a clean throw on it. The dogs have suffered forcible ablutions and now smell vastly improved. They are so cold without their greasy thick coats that last night they went upstairs and got in bed with Lucy, where they lay shivering until they got warm. Lucy as a small child decided that she would like to be a dog when she grew up, and hence is sympathetic to forlorn brown eyes, and does not seem to object to this sort of invasion.
Both children have been instructed to spend their entire time catching up on schoolwork, which Lucy is doing with the panic of a person whose GCSEs start in a few weeks, and Oliver is doing whenever he thinks somebody is watching him. In between he is playing an unsuitable Playstation game that he has purchased online with his own bank card. He was very impressed with the way this works, all you need to do is key in a few numbers and whatever you want arrives on the doorstep the next morning.
I have observed that this sort of thinking has also been my own downfall.
They were both so busy doing homework that they didn’t bother to get dressed.
The picture was taken just before Mark and I went to work.
I suppose it saves me any more washing.
