Fragile

I did not feel at all well this morning.

I think ‘fragile’ would be a good word to describe it.

Readers, I was very afraid that I might have contracted bat flu again. I had all the symptoms. I was aching and shivery and very sorry for myself.

I couldn’t in the least think of anything else that might be the matter.

Fortunately I started to feel a bit better after a decent cup of coffee, and although I have definitely been fragile all day, probably nobody would really have diagnosed bat flu unless I had actually died, in which case I expect it would have been in big red letters at the top of the death certificate.

I did not die, you will be pleased to hear, and actually, despite the mild indisposition, I have had a very contented sort of day.

I had not realised how upset I have been about the house being a mess and nothing being finished and ready. Now that it is no longer a mess, and things are a bit more finished and ready, I have hardly shouted at Mark or Oliver all day.

Partly I have not shouted at them because they have been out.

Oliver had a flying lesson today, although when they got to the airport a thick fog had rolled in from the sea, and they did not fly anywhere after all. Instead they spent the lesson learning about different types of aeroplane and talking about wind speeds.

I stayed at home and hung washing up.

After that I occupied ages and ages wrapping the last Christmas presents and writing the last cards. They are all written now, that is it. The last ones can go in the post tomorrow, and the last presents go at the same time.

I stood amid the debris and realised that I had finished.

It was a joyously liberating sensation, I can tell you. It has been something of a marathon.

I have got a tidy house and I have sent all of my Christmas presents.

I am a Person of Virtue.

More than that, I had a lovely evening last night. Elspeth had made huge efforts and cooked a brilliant dinner, and I felt touched and humbled by her kindness.

I might have drunk a bit too much but I don’t suppose anybody noticed. It is good to have friends.

Today I thought that I would do quiet things with no alcohol in them. When we went to Booths to purchase ethical dinners for our Christmas week, I was not even tempted to start buying any more wine.

This turned out to be just as well because the ethical shopping cost a fortune anyway.

It was splendid to get all of our favourite things. We are going to live on smoked trout and sausages all over Christmas. This is just as well because this afternoon the newspaper said that all vegetables are being stopped at the ports in case they have got bat flu, and we will all have scurvy by January.

I suppose it will make a change from bat flu.

When we got home we had a last Challenge to overcome.

We had to get the double bed out of the loft and put it in Lucy’s room.

For reasons that I can’t be bothered to explain this involved a great deal of faffing about carrying mattresses both up and down the stairs. They are huge thick mattresses and do not have handles. We have moved them up the stairs before, but we were about fifteen years younger last time, and it seems that it makes more difference than you might think.

Poor Roger Poopy was utterly distraught by the changes in Lucy’s room. We have taken all of her lovely things out. We have put the books back, but there was the bed, the lovely bed that smelled of Lucy, and where he used to go and hide under the quilt when everybody was cross with him. Now it is gone and a worrying foreign one in its place.

She might never come back now that even her smell is gone.

He was very upset indeed. He is still very upset even though I have told him that he is making a stupid fuss about nothing and that he needs to pull himself together.

He is under the desk at my feet, sighing sorrowfully.

It is almost Christmas. She will be here is a very few days.

How it has rushed up on me.

Have a picture of Mark. He is polishing the candlestick but somehow he is still looking guilty.

He does not need to. I have hardly shouted about mess all day.