It has not rained for the whole day, and I have even done a second lot of washing.
I have just re-read that sentence and recalled that they told us at Cambridge that a good story should start with an intriguing, preferably gripping, opening line, and realised that I have failed miserably in that department. There is no point in having an expensively world-class university education and then forgetting everything within a minute of walking out of the door, which I have done now, by the way, walked out not forgotten everything, since my dissertation is over and done. I can still use everything like the libraries and a room in Lucy Cavendish until September, but apart from that I am no longer a student, which is sad.
Anyway, I will start again and see if I can improve.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, except it wasn’t either really because it is always worse when it rains, and it hasn’t done that today. It wasn’t the best of times because Roger Poopy has rolled in something revolting again, which is why I needed to do another lot of washing.
Mark stuck him under the shower and scrubbed him. The sofa cover and the cover from their cushion are both still hanging on the washing line as I write, even though it is the middle of the evening and I am on the taxi rank.
Mark is in the taxi next to me, and it isn’t raining, so even though it isn’t exactly the best of times it is pretty good really.
It is nice to have Mark at home, even though he keeps getting things wrong. He tried to be helpful by drying the dishes last night when we came home from work and used the wrong towel. Instead of using yesterday’s towel that I had carefully dried over the fire for that very purpose, he used the clean towel that had been tidily laid out for the next morning, and I was very cross with him. He laughed, which did not help, which he could do because it wasn’t him who had to find room on the washing line today for two towels instead of one. Fortunately it didn’t rain so I pegged it all outside and it dried beautifully, so although I haven’t exactly forgiven him I suppose I had better stop going on about it quite soon.
He spent most of today faffing about outside with his car, so he wasn’t much use then either, although he did come in and water the conservatory before we came out to work, which helped a very great deal. The conservatory is just about the only place in the Lake District where some rain would actually be welcome, because watering it takes ages. We are beginning to look at it with some concern, because although we can still get in through the door, we won’t be able to for very much longer. There are some colossal Swiss Cheese plants that are not only blocking out the light but are inching their way stealthily across the doorway as well. We have been hoping these will fruit soon, they might as well make themselves useful in return for our not-terribly-reliable nurturing, watering and occasional removal of slugs. Apparently they taste like a cross between an apple and a pineapple, but nothing yet this year. Maybe next, if we don’t have to take a machete to them first.
Oliver has been at his bartendering job again today, although we do not think he is likely to last very much longer. He appears to have inherited my general attitude to authority and it is a matter of time before he tells the manager the thing about shoving the job where the sun doesn’t shine etc etc. I am quite pleased about this, I am proud to think he is perfectly able to stand up for himself in the face of mean-spiritedness and unkindness. Also he prefers his doormanly job far more, and thinks he would rather try and get some more hours at that.
In any case this is Windermere and just about everybody is desperate for staff. This means that nobody has got to put up with people being horrid to them because they can always go somewhere else. It is a splendid way of running a labour market because it means that in the end the only places that run well are the ones which are kind to their employees.
The doormanly company seems to do that. Oliver likes them very much. It seems they are a Band of Brothers.
They are the Happy Few.
There, I have come up with a classical allusion on which to end as well.
I expect you are very glad I have benefited from such a magnificent education.
