We were late for work this evening.
We did not mean to be. We were full of good intentions.
It had started to go wrong when some complete clown, presumably from the sort of company that sells things to people on the telephone, rang us up at nine o’ clock this morning. Mark staggered downstairs to hunt for the phone, but they hung up without leaving a message or a number just as he reached it, so he made us some coffee instead.
We did not really mind being awake early, because my parents were coming to visit, and we had things to do. The house was already tidy, because of the children not being here, but I wanted to do some baking and life organising before they turned up.
I suggested to Mark that we went for a run, but he said that he had got better things to do with a Sunday than make his knees sore, and that he would cut the grass instead.
I did not argue very much about this. Actually I capitulated instantly and with relief. Instead of doing anything energetic we pottered about the house and garden, gently contemplating our world and enjoying the sunshine.
I baked some fruit bannock loaves and Mark trimmed the lawn, until everywhere smelled brilliant, of cut grass and baking. Then I mixed some fruit for breakfasts next week, and Mark got out his bits of solar panel and started making a mess.
My parents turned up not long after this point, and he had to put away the plank on the coffee table rather hastily.
It was jolly nice to see them. My father has reached the stage of life where he keeps having to have bits of him repaired, and over the last couple of months it has been his eyes.
Not having functioning eyes had begun to impair his driving a bit, and so he had stopped driving up the motorway to see us. I do not quite know the process involved in fixing cataracts, taking your eyes out and scrubbing them clean and then giving them a good polish before putting them back, perhaps. He has had this done and now his eyes are working really rather splendidly again. He was not even wearing glasses any more, we live in a marvellous world.
Now that he has been restored to vision again they very kindly offered to come up and see us. This was ace, because we have been feeling guiltily that we ought to make some effort to become reacquainted with our relatives, and somehow not managed to organise the time. Having them turn up on the doorstep with a bottle of wine, some fudge and cake, and a book I have not yet read, seemed to me to be rather more than we deserved.
The sun was shining, and it seemed to be a pity to waste it, so we persuaded them that the camper van would be a happier place to be than the house. This is because it is light and always sunny in the camper van, and also I can idle away the hours without feeling the tiniest scrap of guilt.
We went to the Horticultural Society Gardens.
I am ashamed to admit that although I have always known of their beauty, I have never been there. That is to say, I have driven there in a taxi, to deposit drunk people at the staff house around the back, and once or twice I have been there during the day, usually to collect unpaid fares from remorseful hung over people.
Other than that I have not bothered.
I was sorry that I had not when we got there, because I thought they were really rather beautiful. There were greenhouses and lawns and a stunning view across the lake to the Langdales, and lots of well-cared for blooming plants.
I wish I had got my own act together in our own garden a bit more, it has not been one of my more successful projects recently. Even with short grass it is still looking a bit neglected and forlorn.
Maybe when the children leave school.
We ambled contentedly around the gardens and looked at things, and then parked under the trees at the bottom of the drive, where we had coffee and fresh bannock, with butter. There should have been jam, but I had forgotten it.
We looked at some family photographs, mostly in order to make sure their other grandchildren were not out-achieving ours. Fortunately were quite satisfied that it was all right, because even though they are musical geniuses, they are not international athletes or intrepid world travellers, so we could make genuine admiring noises and not the sort that you have to make through gritted teeth.
In the end my parents had got to go home. I was sorry to see them go, and also did not want the nice day to come to an end. Instead of going home and getting ready for work, we drove to the viewpoint at the top of the lake.
We like the viewpoint at the top of the lake. We did our earliest courtship there, after work in freezing dawns, years and years ago. We looked at the view happily for a few minutes, then realised we were desperately tired, crept back into the camper van and went instantly to sleep.
When we woke up we were late for work, but it didn’t matter.
It has been a very happy day indeed.
