We slept and slept.
In the end we woke up at just after twelve, which sounds dreadfully late, although we had still only been in bed for seven hours. All the same, we felt indescribably recovered, and celebrated with coffee in bed.
Oliver came to join us, because he wanted to show us something entertaining that he was watching on YouTube.
He and Mark laughed a great deal. I concentrated very hard, but quite simply could not see what was amusing them. It was a compilation of game-playing fails, and was completely incomprehensible, I suppose it would have been funnier if I knew what you had to do in a game to succeed.
It was hot, even hotter than yesterday, which was rather splendid, especially since we were not obliged to bake ourselves on a scorching playing field but could potter gently in and out of the shade.
Mark washed up whilst I became frustrated with the computer trying to unearth his mislaid iCloud password and e-mail account. He does not use these very frequently, but as you might remember, last week he misfortunately dropped his phone in a bucket of water, and although it can still be used for telephone calls, it no longer wishes to be associated with photography, or the Internet, or indeed very much at all. It has become a sulking recluse, probably because of the shock.
This has meant that we have had to resort to cyberspace to find all of his photographs. Most of these are of rusty segments of camper van, but they are important to Mark, and so I promised that I would do my best.
In the end I managed to find them all, and in a rash moment, gritted my teeth and ordered a new phone for him, courtesy of his credit card. This is because apart from the Internet difficulty, the old, now waterlogged telephone will not switch off any more, and the battery goes flat in next to no time.
I consoled myself by remembering that it could have been a great deal worse. Had we decided to insure it, we would probably have spent loads more on the insurance over the years, and then had weeks of irritating arguing to do before we could get a new one, so every cloud, etc.
Pleased with this small rectification, we realised that we still had a spare hour before we had to get ready for work, and of course we chucked the dogs in the car and dashed over to the farm.
Oliver came too.
It was nice to have him with us. He has got a car at the farm in which he is learning to drive, although unfortunately when we got there the battery turned out to be flat.
He spent ages helping Mark to get it started, wandering about with spanners and muttering ‘lefty-loosy-righty-tighty’ to himself: but once it was going it was fine, and they chugged up and down the drive practising clutch control.
I think he will get better once he can reach the pedals properly, but as Mark says, if we have a zombie apocalypse, he will be able to manage to escape even if the rest of us have been eaten. I am sure you will be as relieved at this reflection as I am.
He was so competent by the time we left that he reversed my taxi out for me whilst I closed the big doors.
The splendid thing about this new learning experience is that it has greatly increased his admiration for people who can drive, like me.
I basked in his approval on the way home, but eventually felt compelled to remind him that it is really just a new skill to be learned, like shooting zombies, and that actually any idiot can do it. We reflected for a moment on idiots of our acquaintance who possess driving licences, and Oliver thought cheerfully that in that case he was absolutely bound to pass his driving test.
So that’s sorted out. Even if he doesn’t pass any exams he can always be a taxi driver.
Always good to have a career.
