We have the Mrs. Number Two Daughters in residence.
This is making me feel happy. It is always nice to have a chick or two in the nest, especially for the first week before the washing starts to pile up.
It is partly nice because it has been a watertight excuse not to go and sit fruitlessly on the taxi rank for the evening. I do not much mind this but it is a bit dull compared with sitting in the living room drinking nice wine and laughing at Number Two Daughter’s jokes.
We did not make very much money at all last night. I did not get to bed until just after four, and I got up with Mark at half past seven. You will not be surprised to discover that I feel a bit rubbish now.
I am not going to write very much. I have been busy all day and words keep coming out with all of the letters in the wrong order. I think I want to go to bed. I am just going to write a very little bit more and then I think I will have to sleep.
It was wonderful to be able to justify a complete shirk this evening. I am going to justify another one tomorrow as well.
I had just got to that point of writing when I discovered Oliver’s post, and abandoned this for a few moments to investigate. For the uninitiated, Basher Baiting is Mischief Night style pranks played largely on grounds staff, hiding in dark places and leaping out at surprising moments, etc. It is very naughty and they are not supposed to do it. Obviously Oliver is not joining in.
Secretly I think that it sounds as though it might be funny but that is because I am not on the grounds staff.
It is a very philosophical entry. I am encouraged by its sensible thinking.
I have spent my day rushing around trying to turn our inferno-ravaged house into an acceptable hostelry for entertaining guests. It all needs repainting so it isn’t really acceptable, but I had cooked a huge tray of sausages and cleaned the bathroom so it was close enough.
It was ace to see Number Two Daughter. We have not met her new partner before, although we have seen so many pictures that it felt as though we had, and it was slightly peculiar to hear her speak and realise that I had no idea what her voice sounded like. She is jolly nice and goes running. I would like to go running if I was not so fat and lazy, but I am.
Roger Poopy was beside himself with joy to have Number Two Daughter returned. He bounced and barked and in the end curled up on her knee and refused to budge. It has been a very happy day for him. There was a deer in the woods this morning, and he managed to chase it for a couple of hundred yards before being distracted by my bellowing and obliged to desist. He was very excited about this, and kept making hopeful forays off into the undergrowth in case it was still there, but it wasn’t. He was very pleased with himself all the same, and bounced all the way home with his tail curled in the air.
I can’t write any more. My eyes are closing and I am desperate for sleep. I am sorry not to be more witty and bursting with entertaining epigrams.
I will try again tomorrow.
