It might be Friday The Thirteenth, but so far, although I am aware that it isn’t over yet, it has not been a day packed with misfortunes, at least not from my point of view.
From a point of view of misfortune it would have to come up with something pretty spectacular to match the last week anyway, broken taxis and burst pipes have given us plenty to worry about. Maybe the Gods got the date mixed up, it is not like them to miss an opportunity for merriment like this one.
In fact, I can’t describe the feelings of relief that are washing over me today.
I am not talking about the general election, although admittedly that is rather splendid as well. It is very nice indeed not to be afraid that Oliver’s school is going to be forcibly repossessed and that Mark and Ted’s rural broadband activities, which run on radio waves, are going to be closed down and replaced by Government run fibre optic cables. I have been living with those creeping horrors for a few weeks now and it is an unexpected joy to discover that they have melted, like frost in the sunshine.
Mostly I am feeling contented with the world because we are home, and Oliver is home, and the Christmas tree is up, and the world is all right. There are mince pies in the fridge and home-made chocolate biscuits, and mulled wine in the cupboard. The house is neat and clean and, everything is in its right place. There are Christmas carols on the CD player and explosions in Oliver’s bedroom, and Mark has cleaned the taxis, ready for Christmas.
Life, today, is very nice indeed.
It is ace to have Oliver home. He has been telling me stories of school adventures, which, frankly, are so politically incorrect that I can’t possibly repeat them here, but which made me laugh a very great deal. School boys are rascals, and I am very, very glad not to have chosen teaching as a career.
We have unpacked, which was the only thing of note that I have achieved today, other than explaining to Oliver exactly how representation in the voting system works. Apparently they had some mock elections at school. I do not think the poor Labour party chap won there either, and it sounds as though he might have given up the hope of success and simply played it for laughs. I suspect that there may not have been much enthusiasm for Labour’s policies among an audience of Scottish public schoolboys.
It has been a very quiet sort of day, short, obviously, because it didn’t start until the afternoon, and was mostly filled with investigating the rather sticky contents of Oliver’s luggage. The dorm smelled very much of boys when we collected him, and his luggage has a little whiff of them as well. I do not know how to describe the smell, a sort of echo of old rugby boots and sausages and fresh grass and sweat, all rolled up together and stuffed underneath a radiator.
I put it all into the washing machine.
It has been twilight-grey outside all day, and we have had candles and the fire lit. I keep hoping that it will snow, although so far it hasn’t. We put the Christmas bowl of walnuts beside the fire, which pleased the dogs hugely, and I have been treading on splintered walnut shells ever since.
We are at work now, and am going to read my book for a while.
Have another picture of our travels.
