You have a few minutes of my time.
I am just waiting for the water to warm up for the shower, and am taking a few minutes in the meantime to reassure you of our continued survival.
We are not dead or anything, you do not need to worry.
We are parked in the woods by the beach in the north of Scotland. Somehow we have made it here again. Once more we have fulfilled our obligation to return our son to school. Sometimes this is an unexpected surprise.
This time involved some small anxiety, since when we got home last time we discovered that we had had a flat tyre somewhere between Perth and the Lake District. This had to be resolved with a trip to Lancaster some time last week, I forget when now, and mended with a new one, but it has happened.
The brakes are working, the engine is going, the exhaust has not fallen off, and the van is filled with the glorious scent of lilies, cut from the conservatory before we left, and installed in the camper van with some creative consideration.
You might be curious about how best to install a vase of flowers in a lurching van in such a way that they don’t go all over the place, well we have managed it, the secret was Blu-tack and some string.
Anyway, Oliver has returned to his education. We dropped him off and then rushed back again a little later when he realised that he had forgotten his shoes. We found him dressed in a suit and tie, immersed in a game of Monopoly, presumably in preparation for the world outside school.
I am now abluted and am just adding a last few words whilst Mark has his turn.
We had the busiest of busy Saturday nights. We tore around Windermere with customer after customer, and then piled into the camper van when we had finished, happy in our solvency, at half past four in the morning.
Obviously we showered first. Customers make me feel grubby even though I just sit next to them. I do not want taxi-grime in our beautiful camper van.
Fortunately we had packed. The fridge was full, our clothes were neatly folded in the wardrobe, and Oliver’s luggage had been stowed on Lucy’s bunk. The sun was just rising as we set off, and we admired the beautiful dawn.
It is a beautiful dawn in the Lake District, the sky slowly turning from grey to pink to blue, and we watched it as we chugged over the green northern fells.
We did not get very far. We got to Carlisle and gave up, by which time it was six in the morning. Fortunately there was nobody else on the motorway so it did not matter that we were beginning to nod off, but we pulled over and collapsed.
We did not wake up until just after ten, which is not a very long sleep, but improved matters considerably, and then after that cam the long haul north.
We are here. We have had bread and sausages and cheese for dinner and a walk in the woods with the dogs. Oliver has bounced off into school and we are going to sleep.
I am so tired I am not going to wait for Mark to finish in the shower. I am going to go to sleep.
I handed in my assignment before we left. I feel oddly light-headed. There are no urgently pressing worries tonight.
I expect some will turn up tomorrow.
