In the mornings I usually check the computer whilst Mark puts the kettle on and chucks the dogs outside for a quick empty in the garden.
This enables me to find out who thinks that we need fire safety checks on our house, who has posted us a fuel pipe purchased on eBay, or who has noted that our invoice from last month is still due to be paid.
Thus by the time Mark returns with the coffee jug I have appraised myself with our standing in the world and am thoroughly briefed to enter into discussions about what to do next.
This morning one of my old school friends had suggested on Facebook that I stick some of our camper van pictures on a motorhome page.
I retired back to bed and thought about this.
As you know, I have been considering putting rather more effort into my diary-composing activities. This is because we are flat broke, as usual, and if I could persuade somebody to put some tiresome adverts on my page then I would be able to generate some cash for something I am already doing anyway. I would like this. I like writing my diary and would be pleased if it helped to keep me in red wine and chocolate.
The problem with persuading people to advertise things is that you need to have an audience. At the moment these pages are read by something between six hundred and a thousand people every week. This is a lot of people to know your innermost private secrets, but not a lot to read an advertisement for personal hygiene products or holidays in Norway.
Lucy looked at the diary a few days ago and explained that the basic problem was that it is dull. Nobody, she explained, wants to know about old people obsessively mending a boring camper van in between driving taxis round the Lake District. Perhaps, she suggested, I should branch out into some music reviews or at the very least try and find something interesting to do.
The thing is that I am already busy obsessively mending the camper van and driving taxis, and have not got the time to listen to music or have thrilling adventures.
My friend thought that people on Facebook motorhome pages might be interested.
I considered this, and then hopped out of bed and looked at a Facebook page called Motorhome Madness.
I was very interested in the things that I read there. Lots of people were having little disasters and small pleasures. They were travelling around and looking at the world and having little triumphs and crises, and I was captivated.
I stuck some photographs on it, along with a link to this page.
We got up and did all of the usual daily things, like emptying the dogs and tidying the kitchen. We put the washing on, fed the children, and collapsed back into bed. It has been a long time since we have had enough sleep, and yesterday we were both so tired that we were actually grumpy with one another. Today, we decided, would be a Day Off.
We slept and slept until it was almost time to go to work.
We got up at teatime.
I looked at my computer.
Almost a thousand people had looked at these pages.
To say that I was astonished does not do justice to astonishment. I stared dumbly at my computer like a startled donkey.
I have discovered that people are interested in camper vans.
For weeks and weeks I have applied self-control to my diary-writing in order not to witter tediously about my Special Motorhome Interest, and now I am concerned that people will be looking and thinking that I have not talked about it enough.
I have told you almost nothing of real interest. All of the thrilling details like the pipe dimensions and the adaptations we have done to the electrical system have been allowed to fade quietly out of view, and suddenly I have discovered a world full of people who like to know things about other people’s camper vans.
Of course I do not imagine for a minute that a thousand more people will be eagerly clicking their way to my pages every morning, in order to discover the latest breathless update on our slow camper van reconstruction adventure: obviously most of them will read it once, nod absently and forget it instantly.
However I have discovered something new and thrilling.
People are interested in the things that we do.
I don’t think I will bother reviewing any music.
