Lucy did not pass her driving theory test today, but that was all right, because she only failed by a couple of marks, and she is going to go back again on Tuesday and have another go.
I was not allowed to wait in the driving test centre whilst she was in her exam. The lady behind the desk was not able to explain why this might be, but she was perfectly adamant, loitering on the premises was not allowed.
I did not mind this, because the day was clear and warm, and pleasant for milling about. I wandered back to the car and looked at things, and then read my book for a while.
When I got back again I was five minutes early. The lady shook her head. Even for five minutes I was not allowed to wait there, and data protection, she explained, stopped her telling me whether Lucy had left already.
I sat on the doorstep, as untidily as I could manage, and resolved one day to make a copy of the eight principles of the Data Protection Act for my handbag. Of course these say no such thing, and I occupied the five minutes reflecting vengefully on how enormously satisfying it might be to have them handy to pass over to self-important stupid people at such moments.
When Lucy came out and we had recovered from the disappointment of her lack of a pass mark, we thought that we would go and replenish her wardrobe for the new school year. Sixth formers are allowed to wear anything they like. I had always thought that the school uniform was expensive until I had a sixth former, but I can promise you, a mere seven hundred quid on blazers and kilts and netball shirts was a breeze compared to Smart And Businesslike Workwear, which is what they have got to wear now.
We went to Debenhams, which had a sale on, although unfortunately Lucy did not like a single thing that was in the sale, and we had to content ourselves with New Season Just In Fashions, all of which had the sort of price tag that you would not wish to drop on your toe.
We bought some shirts and cardigans anyway, which were pretty, and then went on to Asda by way of completing the emptying of my bank account. This was a trial, because we had forgotten to bring carrier bags, and I had no desire to purchase any, so everything had to be chucked in and out of the trolley and the back of the car. A bag of salt burst.
I was beginning to feel a bit frayed when we got home.
Oliver was there, having finished work early. He has become very grown up now that he is employed. He and Lucy helped to unpack and to eat the doughnuts, and then they both dived off with a great deal of squeaking and giggling to finish painting his bedroom.
It was dinner time by the time they had finished. Mark and I went to assist with the replacement of his furniture, and by the end of the evening we had achieved almost-normality again.
There are piles of wood everywhere waiting to be made into shelves, but apart from that we are nearly tidy. I am pleased about this, the painting project seems to have been huge and everlasting. Also I am impressed with them, they have done almost all of it with no help whatsoever, and it has been a massive chore.
I might tidy up some of the edges when he has gone to Portugal next week.
Just zoom in on the door.
