Well, we are in the middle of a bank holiday and I am writing to you before I go to work, because I am rather hoping that once I get there I will be far too busy to contemplate idling about composing inspirational anecdotes.
I might add that I am still struggling to type with my skinless fingers, and that neither my computer nor my telephone will recognise my fingerprints any more because of all the spring-scrubbing. Everything is eyeing me up suspiciously, as if I were potentially a rascally criminal, about to hack into my bank account and wickedly deprive me of the £5.73 I have got stashed away therein, and I have been obliged to hunt out all of the passwords in order to use my once easily-accessible technology. It is tiresome.
Last night was fortunately busy, with the usual Bank Holiday collection of stag parties and other reprobates. There are a lot of people here, mostly, I think, because of the sunshine, although today has been cold. I went on my walk wearing my shorts, partly because I would like to have long brown legs, although I am forced to admit that even if the Lake District suddenly had an outbreak of Global Warming and became Tenerife, the best I could expect would be short brown ones. Also it was because I am trying to collect and save up some Vitamin D, in theory for the winter months, but more probably for every single month after this one. The Lake District is not exactly awash with it even now, at the height of our heatwave. I did not exactly regret the shorts-wearing, although I had to grit my teeth bravely about the icy wind, because there was a great deal of freezing sunshine, and I could console my shivering self with the thought that I am boosting my mental and physical well-being as advised by the Health and Beauty pages of the august Daily Telegraph.
I wonder if a sunbed might be a better idea.
It might have been a bit wasted. The only bit of me that has even gone pink has been my nose. The rest of me is still bone-white, but my nose has gone a perky shade of summery scarlet. My legs would not look out of place on a tray of uncooked chicken drumsticks, alas.
The dogs have been enjoying the sunshine. I spent yesterday afternoon sawing up firewood in the back yard. This had been left by the builders, and was now being decluttered as a scrubbing-free addition to my spring cleaning. I was interrupted by a very irate tourist lady complaining that she was trying to drive down the alley and that the dogs were refusing to get up from their basking-in-the-sun positions in the middle of it, and would I please call them in and keep them under proper control.
I eyed her unsympathetically. I do not mind tourists in the village, on the main streets or ambling up and down the front taking pictures, but they are intrusive and unwanted in the alley, which is Our Private Space. Tourists have no business there, not even if they are staying in a holiday house. The alley is for locals, cats, dustbins and gossip.
I said that if she squished them I would just get another, and returned to my sawing up, leaving her huffing and puffing crossly.
Of course the dogs had got up by then, because of wanting to investigate the visitor, so she could drive past in peace if she wanted to. They barked at her then, threateningly, and she bustled off, still grumbling under her breath.
I thought that it had been a most satisfactory encounter.
I tidied and swept the yard and felt pleased with the result. The spring cleaning is almost done now. I have not yet touched my office nor the children’s bedrooms, and so those are to be next week’s projects, once my fingers have grown some skin again. It turns out that Mark is not going to be home until next Friday after all. It was going to be Monday, then Wednesday, but now it has been pushed back until Friday, and so I have still got time.
With any luck he will come home to an immaculate springtime house. He will notice this because I will make sure that I point it out to him in order that he appreciates it properly.
I am sure he will be very pleased.
Work is calling.
I will see you tomorrow, probably.
