We have been out for dinner. It is now almost midnight and instead of collapsing into bed I am writing to you in a late night burst of wishing I had done it earlier.
I did think about doing it earlier, and indeed came up to my desk to do so. When I switched the computer on I discovered that I had already faffed about for so long that I had got fifteen minutes left to shower, change, apply makeup and shout at Mark for being late, before we had to depart, so I didn’t.
My parents are visiting us for a few days, which is lovely. That is to say, they are not exactly visiting us, not in the sense that Ritalin Boy visits us, where I make up a bed for him with the camper van cushions underneath my desk and he fills it with spilled apple juice and Haribos and we read a bedtime story.
I do not think that my parents would like that very much. In any case, like Ritalin Boy they are early risers and would probably be a nuisance at six o’clock in the morning when all civilised people are in bed.
Hence they are not staying with us. They called in for a quick cup of coffee this afternoon, after which they retreated to a very nice hotel in Bowness that used to belong to Beatrix Potter, and settled down for a glass of whisky and an afternoon nap.
I envied them this very much.
They needed the afternoon nap because of having had a hectic morning. About five minutes before they were due to set off I had called them and wondered if they might kindly consider stopping on their way just to collect a steam cleaner that I had bought on the mighty Internet from a friend.
This turned out to be not only not on their way, but also up about four flights of stairs at the end of a muddy path, which would not have mattered had they not been in a tearing rush to get to a hospital appointment.
It did not make me popular and tomorrow we are going to try out the steam cleaner on their car’s upholstery.
I was pleased with the steam cleaner, though. I am going to try and turn the sofa back to its original colour, which as far as I recall is a sort of creamy hue, not the greyish brown that it has become. Muddy dogs are not ace for cream sofas.
They also brought me a present that I think might turn into a Life Changing Moment.
I am now the proud owner of a Kindle.
I have never used one before and so far I am absolutely enchanted. I switched it on and told it what my name was, and to my astonishment it knew all about us already. It knew about our listening to Sherlock Holmes in the camper van, and it knew that I have been breathlessly waiting for the last of the Thomas Cromwell trilogy, and it even knew that I have got a daughter who reads criminology textbooks.
It is small and sleek and will hold practically every book in my library, there, in my hand, all at once. I will not need to dust them at all, nor heave them grumpily up the stairs to the loft because all of the shelves are full and there are books starting to pile up on the floor. It could be an absolute tidying-up revolution.
I will let you know how I go on with it. I think that it is about to solve all my difficulties of not being able to read small print books in a dark taxi. It is surprisingly complicated to manage a book and a cup of tea and a sandwich and a torch all propped against the steering wheel. This can go quite dramatically wrong if some drunk nutter bashes unexpectedly on the window. For the first time for ages I am quite looking forward to my next excursion in the taxi.
That was not tonight, because we joined my parents in their very nice hotel for dinner.
I ate so much that I wished I had worn a dress.
It was hours and hours ago and I am still feeling a little stretched around the waistband.
It was divine. The Lake Distict does seem to have some brilliant chefs, they will be a hard act to follow when I am cooking tomorrow night.
We had raspberries for pudding tonight as well, with white chocolate curds and honeycomb.
I am going to chalk that one up as a Must Try as well.
Another time.
I took the picture this morning when we went for our walk.
