At least, I jolly well hope it will.
I am referring, of course, to Mark’s taxi which has got its MOT tomorrow. He has been frantically nailing it back together for the last couple of weeks, for so long, in fact, that probably some of the things he has fixed have had time to wear out again in the meantime.
The windscreen wipers still come on all the time, but this is not technically an MOT failure, so maybe it won’t matter. It depends on how unreasonable the mechanic is feeling.
It needs a new Body Control Module to resolve this. So far we have attempted to order three on eBay, and every single time somebody has telephoned with some rubbish excuse about why they don’t have one any more, or declined to respond to the order, or some other tediously time-wasting irritation. It is very tiresome and we are going to try again to organise one next week, because even if it does not need one for the MOT we can see that it might become an irritating feature if ever it stops raining. So far it hasn’t, and so it hasn’t mattered, but probably That Day Will Come sooner or later. There will be a moment when he would quite like to switch the windscreen wipers off, and so it needs fixing.
We will have to try again tomorrow.
In the meantime we have been working and I have been plotting my next assignment for college, and I have been doing things in the office.
I have been painting some things, but have run into a problem as the daylight has been slowly diminishing. My office has had a small difficulty with the light switch. This has meant that the light will not switch on, which has not especially bothered me until now. Now I am painting things it is becoming something of a handicap, and I actually need to see what I am doing.
I asked Mark if he could look at it for me in an urgent emergency this afternoon.
It will save me a thousand words if I just show you the repair he has done.
It is below.
I can hardly tell you how grateful I was.
I am going to have to nag him about this because otherwise I will just get used to it and it will turn into one of those interesting domestic features of a property which the estate agent will have to try and pass off as Character when the children try to sell it when we are dead.
Painting has become a fairly intensive occupation at the moment, not greatly assisted this afternoon by the dogs having a full-scale dog-fight under the desk. It is not easy to paint straight lines when somebody is trying to bite somebody else and your toes happen to be in the way, and I can tell you now that some swearing happened. In the end Mark took them all to the park, for which I was very grateful.
I am going to go, because I am in bed and I can hear Mark finishing his shower. I do not usually like being in bed on Sunday nights, because Monday is Clean Sheets Day, and I always think that after a week the sheets feel a bit greasy and distasteful, but of course my side of the bed is still very pleasantly fresh, because I have been at Cambridge all week.
Mark’s side is probably horrid, but I don’t need to concern myself with that.
I will see you tomorrow, when with any luck This Too Shall Have Passed.
