It is Wednesday and I have only just got round to the dusting.
This is a shocking lack of housewifely pride, and I am suitably ashamed of myself, despite my observation that there are four of us living here at the moment, half of whom are professional cleaners.
Actually I am not surprised. When you get home from a cleaning job, the last thing you want to do is clean something else. I once knew quite a few nurses, in the days when hospitals had matrons and actually were clean, and they were always so sick of scrubbing and polishing things, that when they got home their houses were exceptionally cluttered and grubby.
I am neither a nurse nor a cleaner but I confess that I am not very interested in cleaning either, and I wouldn’t have bothered at all had I not promised myself to make a special effort because I had to get up early, and I liked the idea of heaping lots of virtue on my head all at once.
I got up early because of the haircut, which was in Kendal at a quarter to twelve. I know this doesn’t sound very early, but not only was there the laundry to be accomplished, there was also the dog walk, and so I crawled disbelievingly out of bed at half past seven.
The dogs would not get up at all and had to be booted down the stairs. They were not keen on the walk either, although it was a fine morning, at least by Cumbrian standards. It was warm and drizzly with a damp mist, and they dragged their paws as if they were getting paid by the hour. They are not natural early risers.
When I got back I hurtled around tidying up and pegging the laundry to dangle wetly in the garden. It dried a bit, although only a bit, and had to be brought in to be draped over the stove this evening. It is October and the washing line is probably about ready for its annual holiday. There is not much point in pegging things outside now, so probably it has earned a couple of months off.
I went to Marks and Spencer for some smoked fish, being trout, which is my favourite, and something called Smoked Teriyaki Salmon. I do not know what this is but it was an interesting colour, and I thought I ought to broaden my horizons and have an adventure, what else is advancing age all about?
After that it was the haircut, which was truly blissful. The hairdresser is a splendid chap who very cleverly remembers all the stuff I told him last time, which is lots better than I ever manage with taxi customers, who quite often get in chirping brightly: It’s us again, and I have to look at them cluelessly. I could never remember all of the conversational rubbish that customers go on about, and confess that I have never tried. Mostly I do not listen at all, and their conversation is merely a background noise whilst I am thinking about my story.
I sat contentedly in the chair until my irritating mop was spread liberally and greyly over the floor, and when I came out a nice thing happened, and a taxi pulled up next to me and asked if I wanted to go anywhere, which of course I did, back to Marks and Spencer’s car park. This saved me trailing back up the hill, and I had a good chat with the driver on the way, who is of course a friend, and who was not really working but moving house. I am pleased that he is moving house, not least because it means there is only me on the taxi rank for most of the evening.
I hurtled around Asda and spent far more money than I actually had, before dashing back home where I had a Zoom meeting with my friend Amanda. She is absolutely my best friend at the moment, because she is a writerly friend, and she is interested in my story. I have become so sunk in the writing of the story that really if people are not talking about it then I am not really paying attention, and my writing friend is the only person in the world who is even remotely interested. She says things like: So why did you call this character by that name? and How is that relevant to the plot? This means that I dare not write drivel even for a few sentences, because I know that she will notice.
After that of course it was work. Oliver helped me with some clean sheets and took the dogs out, so I felt nurtured and supported, which was splendid.
I am going to go and sit on the taxi rank and think about my story for the evening.
