I am sure you will be pleased to know that we had a lovely time last night.
We went to the Indian restaurant, where we had a curry, and a whole bottle of wine between us.
We did not drink it all at the restaurant. We saved the last little bit until we got home, and sat in the conservatory to drink it.
We were already showered, so we went to bed.
Alas, we did not go straight to bed.
I think I told you that I had not done my sore foot a good turn by insisting it accompany me on a walk over the fells. It showed its displeasure by becoming fat and uncooperative, and so Mark offered to give it a massage before we went to bed.
Mark is a ruthless masseur. I think I have told you before that a massage from Mark could easily earn itself a chapter in Fifty Shades of Grey, and certainly should not happen unless you have previously agreed a safe word.
I did not think until afterwards that the bedroom window had been left open, we were lucky that nobody called the police.
Of course it was all considerably better this morning, the swelling had gone down completely and I could walk almost normally, which was just as well, because today was the day for the MOT on Mark’s taxi, and I had to take it into Kendal.
I had decided to do the shopping whilst I was there, and went to Asda first.
This was as loathsome as Asda always is, except more expensive because of the Government. I do not know exactly what they have done to make everything more expensive, but it must be them, because I am quite certain that it is not President Putin’s fault that bleach has risen in price from eighteen pence to eighty. I put some in the trolley anyway, but felt resentful all the way to the checkout.
I had to pack the back of the car carefully, so that the cold things would stay cold during their hour’s MOT wait. I am pleased to tell you that this, at least, was a success, and everything was still satisfactorily chilled when I unloaded it all into the fridge some time later.
I had a very happy time at the MOT station. One of the mechanics, who is a kindly soul, made me a cup of tea, and I sat in the cool shade and read my book peacefully for an hour. Irritatingly, the car failed, because the engine light had inexplicably come on whilst I was on the way. There wasn’t anything else wrong with it, so when I rang Mark we decided I would take the car to him at work, collect my own car, and he would make the light go off and take it back to the MOT garage again.
I do not know how he made the light go off, magic I expect.
I took the shopping home first, so by the time I got to Mark he had finished work anyway, and we exchanged cars and he belted off.
This almost turned into a disaster, because there had been an accident on the main road, and there was a queue of traffic going almost back to Barrow. Mark belted around the side roads, squeezed past tractors and diverted trucks on single-track lanes. He didn’t make it back to the MOT garage until seconds after it had closed, but he had enchanted the light into going out, and they kindly stayed open and passed it anyway.
I am writing this whilst waiting for him to get back.
We have a taxi with an MOT. We are massively relieved about this, so much so that we thought we would go swimming instead of to work this evening. We have both passed the taxi rank several times and it looks to be stuffed full of all the taxis who have been shirking all week, so we might just leave them to it.
I am going to go and see what I have done with my swimming things.
Outgrown them, probably.
