Mark went back to work today, and the holiday was over.
It was a bit odd to be on my own again.
However I was not short of things to do. Having Mark at home for any length of time always results in a very great deal of clearing up, and so this was what I did.
I was very glad that the washing machine was working again. I filled it and emptied it three times. The Weather Gods must have been feeling benevolent, because it all dried beautifully, in warm sunshine with a good breeze.
I bathed the dogs. This job needs to be done after our run up the fell, but before cleaning the bathroom. They smelled horrible. This was because they are so interested in one another’s wee that they try to sniff it whilst it is still being squirted out, and not infrequently finish up wearing it. I think this is entirely revolting but they do not seem to mind at all. Wee is one of their favourite things, if they find a good patch of it they will both thrust their noses into it as deeply as they can, and drool with happiness.
They were not at all enthusiastic about the bath, and had to be forcibly dragged into the bathroom and the door firmly closed behind them. I can not imagine being the sort of creature for whom wee smells preferable to Boots Strawberry Shampoo, but it seems to be the case if you are a dog.
I scrubbed them, and rinsed them, and coated them with Boots Coconut Hair Conditioner. We have got this because it came free with the shampoo, not because I think the dogs need to have soft and silky Vitamin E flavoured fur. Once they were done I released them to go and shake themselves all over the carpets. Then I cleaned.
I had a happy moment whilst cleaning.
When Ritalin Boy was visiting some months ago, he removed a tin crab from my dressing table. It is a wonderful shiny tin crab, with plastic stick-on diamonds, and the shell lifts up to show a little jewellery box underneath. I am perfectly well aware that it is lacking in any kind of tastefulness, but I like it very much.
After Ritalin Boy had gone, eventually I discovered the crab in my sewing cupboard. I retrieved it, and replaced it on the dressing table, but one of its legs had broken off. I hunted through the sewing cupboard, but to no avail, the leg had disappeared.
I was sad about this, because without its leg the crab fell over. I had a briefly unsuccessful attempt to manufacture a wooden one out of a cocktail stick, but in the end was obliged to abandon the project, leaving the poor crab lying awkwardly beside the little gold model of the Eiffel Tower that flashes in three different colours.
Today I thought I would have another go at fixing it, and emptied the sewing cupboard out again to search for the missing leg.
I cleared everything out. I poked down the back and shone a torch underneath and went through boxes and bags of pretty fabrics and scraps and pieces that I had carefully saved up for some interesting but as yet unspecified future project. I found all sorts of lovely things that I had forgotten that I had, but no crab’s leg.
In the end I was obliged to give up, regretfully, and accept that it must be gone for good.
I resigned myself, sadly, to being the owner of a disabled crab, and went back to finish hoovering the bedroom.
The crab’s leg was right there, on Mark’s side of the bed, just beside the bedding box.
I was astonished. It is weeks and weeks since Ritalin Boy’s visit, and I have hoovered the bedroom lots of times in the meantime. I have been looking for it, hopefully, for ages, and never seen the smallest sign of it.
I thought that perhaps all of the Gods were having a friendly sort of day.
I scooped the crab up and glued its leg back on. I hardly got any glue on my fingers, which was a surprise, I have had one or two troubling experiences with Super Glue in the past.
It was very pleasing indeed.
I feel as though a little bit of my world has settled comfortably back into its place.
I like the days when the Gods are feeling kindly.
