Another short entry, because tiredness is clinging to my limbs, despite not having done anything much at all, and although it is only seven o’ clock, already I am yawning and fuzzy-headed.
Of course we stayed at the farm last night, which was just lovely.
It had been so desperately hot all day that we slept with the camper van doors and windows open, and I dreamed, irritatingly, of an owl.
It was a small owl, and in terrible distress. I would have liked to help it, but it was afraid of me, and wasn’t having any of it.
I woke up, sweating and anxious, to realise that there was a tawny owl, presumably standing on the wall next to the van, having a slanging match with his cousin a few trees away.
I could happily have thrown my shoe at it, if I had had one.
The deer ambled through the field not long after sunrise, followed by a smaller version of herself, no wonder the carrots are having a hard time of it.
When we had finished coffee and the usual morning stagger-and-groan, Mark went outside to bash the draw bar about a bit more, and I cleaned the inside of the van.
I would have liked to do some painting, because some of the pictures on the side are becoming very faded, but it is rubbish to try and do this when the sun is really hot. The paint dries before you can really blend colours, and you finish up with lumpy smears.
Hence instead I polished the bathroom, and the sink, and the mirrors, and the windows, and felt very pleased with myself. It is nice to have such a pristine little space, if I tried to get the house as clean I would be scrubbing for a week.
Mark did not have the right sort of bolts to finish the job properly, so he bashed it into submission and we went home again. We were not staying at home, although really I should have done, because I had not done any of my important housework. Instead it was a hasty visit to organise laundry, after which we dashed down the motorway to the bolt shop, and the shop that sells truck tyres.
We had to hurry up, because of needing to work this evening, which always has a bit of a dampening effect on any wild and reckless carefree day.
We got stopped by the police again on the way home. Mark said that it is making him feel quite like he is a young man again.
I think I am going to have to paint an explanatory sign on the back of it, explaining politely to the police that it is so antique that it does not need an MOT, otherwise this is going to become a nuisance.
I might make that a job for tomorrow, if the sun is not too hot.
