I am not going to write very much at all.
This is because I have had far too much to drink.
We have had an enormously busy day which has included the horrifying discovery that Mark’s taxi plate does not run out next week as we thought, but last week.
This was a shocking moment for all sorts of administrative legislative reasons, most of which are far too dull to go into here.
In any case, it led to a last minute wheel removal and hasty insertion of brake pads, and high speed trip to Kendal for an emergency MOT, followed by some abject telephone grovelling to the council.
In the end we worked it all out and we will have it re-licenced tomorrow.
To our not at all regret, this meant that we couldn’t work tonight, on account of only having a taxi without a licence, which is called a car.
We didn’t care very much about this because of having had a long and effortful day at the farm, which included fitting brakes not only on the taxi but also on the camper van. Mark did this and I helped a bit with looking for things he had put down and then lost, and putting brakes on when he needed them. Apart from that I continued with the prolonged project of octopus painting, the results of which you can see above. It is very nearly finished.
I have found out a great deal about octopuses whilst I have been painting it.
They are very clever and can tell people apart even when they are wearing the same uniform, the people, not the octopuses, obviously. In the sea they decorate their rock-cave houses with pretty things, and some octopuses have been so tiresome in captivity that they have had to be released back into the wild. One kept blocking the overflow on the tank and flooding the aquarium, another one worked out how to fuse all of the electricity by squirting water at lights. Another one took a dislike to one of his keepers, and soaked her with half a gallon of water every time she walked past the tank. He didn’t do it to anybody else.
The more I have read about octopuses, the more I think that perhaps they would be better left where you find them.
We had been at the farm for ten hours when we finally chugged back home.
When we got home we found Oliver and Harry embroiled in playing some computer game which seemed to revolve around baby poo. We ignored them and poured a glass of wine.
Lucy joined us, having had a long and tedious day at work.
After a short while Harry’s mother turned up and joined us as well.
After a while we felt very intoxicated indeed.
Harry’s mother took Harry home and we staggered around the kitchen organising cheese and crackers for dinner, by which time it turned out to be ten at night.
We ate cheese and drank some more, and after a while it turned in to a giggly family evening. It is so much fun to be with the children, we laughed a great deal.
Then I remembered that I had to write to you, so Oliver and Mark are washing up and Lucy has gone to bed.
I am sorry it is so short.
I had better go and supervise Oliver and Mark.
