We promised ourselves that we would get out of bed early this morning, and rush off to the farm to start work as the birds were having their breakfast.
We almost managed it. We were there for half past eleven, admittedly groggy and desperate for coffee, but there all the same.
We had hung the washing up, inside because of the rain, and fed Oliver and Harry, and washed up and tidied up, and all in all felt as though we were not doing too badly.
I did not do any more painting. I keep thinking of things that I might paint on to it. A lobster is up there in the top ten, to be a friend for the octopus, and also to make people like them more and not kill them in the appalling cruel way that people do kill lobsters. I am no animal rights activist, but I don’t eat lobster, imagine the wickedness of boiling something alive.
Anyway, I didn’t paint a lobster, although I think I have found a corner underneath the octopus where I might fit one in. I didn’t do any more of the boring interior painting either.
Instead my job of the day was to stick lino on to the ceiling.
I have wanted Mark to do this for ages, but obviously he has been busy doing technical things that I can’t do. I know it isn’t an important get-us-on-the-road sort of job, because it is entirely decorative. We would be able to go to Blackpool regardless of what was glued to the ceiling, it wouldn’t make any difference in the least.
Despite the obvious triviality of the job I still wanted to get it done. This was because it is disheartening to keep coming back to the van day after day and see no changes at all. It is hard when everything still looks absolutely unchanged, even though I know that every day important things are done. Things are wired up and piped in and the new fuse box is installed: and for the first time ever we have got not one, but two radios that work.
Actually this is a huge improvement. The radio in the van has not worked for as long as I can remember. Somehow Mark’s endless tiddling about with the wiring seems to have worked miracles, and we have music.
We played some today, a CD of songs that we liked, and this was lovely, it was a joy to be able to have music. Not as nice as the birds singing, but it was raining so hard they had all gone back to bed, so we weren’t missing anything. It wasn’t for very long, anyway, because of the battery going flat, but for a little while we could sing along with our efforts, and the day simply bounced past.
We had bought a huge roll of bargain lino for the ceiling on eBay earlier in in the year. I would have been very cross about this if I had wanted it for a floor, because it turned out to be desperately thin and flimsy, but of course for a ceiling, where you want something to be extra-lightweight, it was perfect.
Mark carried on with his spider-web of wires and I measured and cut the lino as carefully as I could.
I do not have any of that sort of spatial awareness at all. It is the sort that they test for at school in IQ tests, where you have got to look at four peculiarly shaped bits and rotate them until one of them turns out to fit the gap in the puzzle. By that measuring stick I am an utter plank. Even with my tongue sticking out it is hard work.
This made Mark laugh so much he could hardly stand up. Fortunately he is kindly enough to come and help me in desperate moments, especially the one where the lino fell on my head and the glue stuck all over my jumper. This was all right, because it was Mark’s jumper anyway, so it was already covered in oily smears, so it didn’t matter.
By the end of the day there was glue everywhere, but the ceiling was almost done, and another two pieces will do it.
Mark says he is going to go back on his own tomorrow, because he gets along much faster without me helping him. I know he is right about this, and I have got a lot of other things I need to do at home anyway, but it does feel lovely to see it looking so much better.
MOT coming soon.
