Attached is a picture of our newly stripy living-room-to-be.
As you can see, I have not yet finished the yellow. There are lots and lots of yellow stripes still to be painted, but the basic effect is now there, and I took the photograph to give you an idea.
There is also gold to be stuck on.
I can reassure the concerned that the water meter in the corner will eventually have a cupboard over it, and by ‘eventually’, I mean probably quite soon. I do not wish to spoil the radiant beauty of my wrapped-birthday-present living room with the unattractively necessary trappings of modern existence. The water meter will be disappearing behind closed doors, and the magical enchantment will be undisturbed.
I am feeling very pleased with it.
It is going to look beautiful with a green patterned carpet and a raspberry pink sofa.
Tiresomely I am going to have to make some new curtains for it, which is a nuisance I had hoped to avoid. This is not for reasons of taste, but because the previous curtains will be about eight inches too short, having been made to fit to the level of the kitchen sink.
I do have some spare curtains which would fit, but they are orange, and even my dubious taste in interior design has resisted their addition.
I had to stop painting and rush off because of coming down to the taxi rank, which is where I am now. I am not going to be here for very long, because we are having a day off, except I need to raise some cash for a haircut and an MOT tomorrow, and so I have come out to try and earn some.
Mark is at work as well, obviously, not on the taxi rank but installing rural broadband. I am glad about this because so far on the taxi rank business has not boomed. The day is wet and the Lake District is empty.
It is so quiet that I am beginning to feel a bit concerned. It would be awful to have to slope off home with my tail between my legs having not earned anything at all.
I will have to go home, though, and actually I am looking forward to it very much, because we are going to see some friends of ours who have very kindly offered to cook dinner for us. We have been looking forward to this very much, because we have not seen them for ages, and have been hoping very hard that Boris would not make it illegal.
I regret to say that we would probably have gone anyway, even if it had been illegal, but it is much nicer not to be a criminal. I would not at all want to have had to spend money on fines to the stupid Government when I am trying so hard to save up for a television.
I am pleased to announce that I have just broken my duck and had some customers struggle wetly into the taxi.
They were earnest young people from London who told me, in muffled tones through their masks, that they were coming on holiday to the Lake District to boost the economy and because it was safer than going abroad.
They had been trying to climb Helvellyn but been driven off by torrential rain for which they were inadequately prepared, and were dripping wet and shivering with cold.
I contemplated suggesting that they reconsidered their definition of safety, but decided not to bother. In our Brave New World there is only one danger that counts for anything, and they had their masks on.
They weren’t that interested in boosting the economy either, because they didn’t tip, and held out their hands for the twelve pence change.
Ah well.
I am going to put this online early, so that even if I drink too much and behave badly later, it will not matter in the least.
See you tomorrow.
