I am not going to write very much because I have accidentally burned my typing finger and every letter is causing me some considerable discomfort.
The thing about being in the middle of a busy day was that I did not have the time to loaf about with it stuck in a cup full of ice. I did put some ice in a cup, since we now have an excitingly functional freezer that does things like that, but I was limited to poking my finger in it every now and again, as I rushed past it, whenever it hurt too much.
I did it taking some prawn toast out of the frying pan. This is to be taken with us on our travels, the prawn toast, not the frying pan, obviously, upon which we are embarking tomorrow.
We are all going off to Lucy’s house. This is for a visit which was arranged before they came home a bit earlier than originally expected from their holiday, because we are going to the theatre in Northampton to see a chap called Derren Brown.
I had never seen him perform, although I have read his books. Since we decided to go and watch him perform live we have since watched some of his exploits on Netflix, which has been fascinating. We have been dissecting them carefully, trying to work out how he does things, but with only minimal success. He is, simply, an extraordinarily observant chap, and I am looking forward to seeing him perform without a rewind button.
He has sent us all a message asking us if we would kindly bring something small but special with us to the performance. It can be anything as long as you can hold it in your cupped hands. We have all been contemplating this all day without success since none of us have anything special, certainly nothing small enough to be held in cupped hands. Anything that importantly small would long ago have been lost or, more probably, consumed by a dog.
I am completely out of ideas. I do not own any important jewellery, and if I did I jolly well wouldn’t be hoiking it about all over a theatre for it to roll off into the ancient popcorn-debris under the seats, leading to an embarrassing on-the-knees scrabble. There is my wedding ring, which probably won’t come off now, and my showing-off student ID pass for Cambridge, which in any case is out of date until I can be bothered to get to the office to collect next year’s. There are my glasses, which are undoubtedly the most important item I possess but which are too long for the cupped-hands thing, and I have got no intention of taking pens or paintbrushes or other such useful but unmanageable clutter.
Oliver has solved the problem by requesting an ancient pocket watch which once belonged to some distant ancestor, and Mark has solved the problem by not giving it a first thought, never mind a second one. Lucy is taking a catnip toy which she has thoughtfully made out of an old onesie for the amusement of next week’s new kitten, but I have drawn a blank.
Lucy suggested fifty quid. I agreed that this would be pretty special, but firstly I don’t have fifty quid at the moment, and if I did I would almost certainly have spent it in the bar long before the significant part of the performance. A handful of change just wouldn’t cut it.
I am contemplating the problem, and have got until tomorrow morning.
Hmmm.
