We are having another night off.
That makes two.
What reckless idlers we are.
It is very peculiar to have days when I do not have to think about getting ready for work. Usually there is a deadline by about four o’clock when I have to drag myself away from whatever I am doing and start getting dinner ready and bringing in washing and emptying dogs, but in these lazy times there is no need for any of it. I can just faff about for hours and hours, editing stories and tidying up and generally achieving nothing much at all.
It is bliss, especially now that the sun is shining so benevolently.
I did not achieve much today either. I took Mark to the MOT station to collect his car. It had passed, but the MOT inspector would not let him drive it off the forecourt because the brake light was out. He could see that Mark had a spare bulb on the dashboard so he passed it and insisted that he fitted the bulb before he went away, adding a few pithy sentences about For Goodness’ Sake Sort Your Taxi Out Idiot.
I left them to it and came home. I had got Number Two Daughter on the telephone at the time, telling me about her adventures. I did not understand them any more than I understand anything that Mark ever tells me, but she was definitely doing something very industrial with either oil or gas and there were tanks involved, and a few familiar words that might have been Cracked Bulkhead nor something. Anyway I made admiring noises. She is doing very well. She is the first lady to be whatever it is that she does, and the Canadians are very pleased with her.
She does not like Donald Trump. Apparently the Canadians think that he might invade. I do not think it is very likely but I made sympathetic noises. In any case it could be worse.
It could be Keir Starmer.
We did not get to the camper van because to do that we will need the trailer, which is currently containing everything that we have got to take with us, and the tow-bar car was having its MOT, so that had to wait.
The thing is that we have got a shed issue.
We have got a new and exciting shed and we can’t get into it.
The door is not big enough for the camper van to go through it.
It is not big enough even if we let the tyres down. You will not be surprised to hear that we considered this.
We are going to have to make the door bigger.
Mark says that this is perfectly possible and that all he needs to do is something creative with the angle grinder out of his trailer and it will be just fine. I have nodded and shuddered and now I have got my fingers crossed.
Fortunately there is a big opening over the top of the door and the bits in the way are just fascia boards, so I do not think it will be too bad as long as the landlord does not notice. Mark is going to take his trailer down tomorrow and alter it all.
I am trying hard not to worry about it but I am, obviously.
I will think about something else. I am sure it will be fine.
In other news, Oliver is home. He has been writing an essay all day, and he has finally finished it, so he can have the rest of his Easter holiday with a clear conscience. We have persuaded him that a perfect way to start his Easter holiday would be to help Daddy to saw a shed doorway in half, to which he has reluctantly agreed, and so tomorrow they are going to go down together.
I can’t think of anything that could possibly go wrong.
