It has been an unremarkable day, so much so that I am struggling to think of things that I can tell you about.
This might be short.
Apart from transporting Lucy back to school, which was an uneventful journey, largely featuring Lucy listening to music on her new Blue Tooth headphones, I have not done very much.
I got up and cleaned my teeth and put some washing into the washing machine.
No wonder you tune into these pages with such excited anticipation.
I made some mayonnaise and washed up the horrible oily mixing things. Mayonnaise is messy to make, and I was too late in making it anyway, because the person who likes it best is Lucy, and she was leaving.
She did not want to take any with her. She said, with a sniff, that they feed her real food at school, and she is not reduced to making her own sausage sandwiches. She is Properly Looked After.
After that I drove to her to York, where her school has won an award for serving the best school food in the country. I ate my cheese and mayonnaise sandwiches on the way back, and came out to work, which is where I am now.
It is raining.
It is raining and very, very quiet.
I have occupied the vast swathes of time in between customers with reading my new Christmas book. I do not usually do things like that. Usually when I get new books I do not read them straight away. I hoard them, like pirate gold, saved for a terrible emergency or for my retirement.
I know then that I have got some blissful moments saved for my future.
Not having any books that you are longing to read is a dreadful state to be in. I remember the desolation I felt when I finished the last of Jane Austen’s novels. I had read them all. Never again would I hold such a treasure in my hands, rich with promise for the future. There would never be another.
I have read them all lots of times since, but there is nothing quite like the first time.
I am beginning to feel like that about the Game Of Thrones books. I do wish that he would hurry up and publish them. I know that he can’t because of the television series, but I would not tell anybody what happened in the end. I would just like to know myself.
Probably I wouldn’t. It is nice to have that treasure to look forward to.
Mark has been reading a book about dinosaurs over Christmas. It puts forward the theory that they must have been mostly water based creatures, because they were too heavy to have been comfortable on land.
He has been intrigued by this, and every now and again has come rushing into my taxi to explain how some cretaceous discovery can only possibly be explained by the watery theory.
I am interested as well, although will probably not read the book as Mark has explained it to me so thoroughly. It seems like a sensible idea, and I like to imagine the tyrannosaurus living a life which is a sort of cross between a duck and a crocodile, sloshing about ominously with just its nose sticking out.
I am glad I was not around in those days.
You would not be so keen to encourage your toddler to chuck bread into the lake under those circumstances.
We think that the swans are a nuisance these days.
Short or not, I think I have wrung every last word out of me.
I am going to continue sitting quietly on the wet taxi rank and reading my book.
