It is long after midnight and it is the first time today that I have managed to find five minutes spare to write to you.
I am not going to write much. I am going to go and stand for a while underneath the hottest shower that I can bear, and then go to bed.
I haven’t had time to drink the flask of tea that we made either, so I am killing two birds with one stone and drinking it whilst I write.
We have been preparing the camper van for the Big Day tomorrow. It will be its first outing, unless you count the jolly to the MOT station, which I don’t.
We haven’t finished it, obviously, we haven’t even nearly finished it. We have still got lots and lots to do.
However, it is legal, it has gas and water, we hope, and tomorrow we will find out if it all works.
I am so tired. My eyes are closing as I write these words. The day has been a long confusion of trying to create order in the camper out of the dusty chaos in Mark’s shed.
It has been hot. For the Lake District it has been amazingly hot, that is to say, it was warmer outside the house than it was inside. Even at the farm, which is usually breezy, we sweated and swatted at biting flies and became sticky and itchy. Mark crawled about underneath the van wiring batteries in, and I hauled our things out of the dust in the back of the donor taxi and cleaned them and restored them to their rightful places in the van, for the first time in two years.
Some things smelled damp. Towels are not at their best when they have spent a couple of years in the back of a scrap car in a rusty aircraft hangar. I shook them out and put them to air and hoped they would be all right. Mark screwed hooks in the walls and we hung things and brushed dust off things and sneezed.
Bit by bit I have been refilling the camper van with our old memories, with the dolphin that squeaks when you shake its fin, with the mermaid plates and the still-soft sheets, pressed and packed away with lavender. There was the ostrich that sings the irritating song, and some of Oliver’s old baby bottles. I have not put those back, but it was difficult to resist.
In the end it was too dark to see any more. I was sticky with glue and dust, and the dogs were hungry. We found our way back to the car by torchlight and went home to devour cheese and crackers and Merlot with ravenous satisfaction.
We have got to make an early start.
I am going to go away and sleep, and set the alarm for some appalling hour at which we are usually just considering going to bed.
I will write to you properly tomorrow and let you know how it has all gone.
