Mark will be back tonight.
He is not back just yet, though, he is going to be late, and so I am sitting on the taxi rank until he gets here
It is not being a very productive exercise so far. So far I have eaten a pancake and a piece of sugarless cake, read the newspaper and drunk my first cup of chai. I have not had any customers.
I can’t say that I mind this very much, although some money would come in very useful, since I have spent lots of it today.
I went into Kendal.
I have been working myself up to this activity for days and days, but I knew that really I ought to get it done before Mark came home, and I have run out of rope for that particular moment, and so despite the complete nuisance of having to dash away on Clean Sheets Day, today it had to be.
I wanted dog food and chai tea and some fish from Marks and Spencer, who are the only fish-sellers of whom I approve. I think people do not make sufficient fuss about unkindness to prawns and lobsters, but Marks and Spencer do, and so I have granted them my loyal allegiance in support.
It is a fairly limited allegiance, because they are jolly expensive, although every purchase comes with some middle-class credit points, and I am still collecting those, hopefully. One day I will get there and be able to put the letters MC in brackets after my name. That will show the doubters.
I am nothing if not aspirational.
I did not buy the dog food and the chai tea in Marks and Spencer. The dog food came from a dreadful pet-supermarket which has a handy branch in Morrisons’ car park, and cost me an extra fiver because I bought some dog bones as well.
These were not merely an outburst of generosity on my part. They were also a practical dietary supplement, because both of the horrid, horrid dogs have had an outbreak of dire rear, starting last night whilst I was at work and continuing through until this morning.
The house was ghastly when I came home, and ghastly again when I got up this morning. I chucked them out when I got home last night, and they squirted all over the yard as well, which I discovered with my boot when I went out to the dustbin with the cleanings from the house.
I thought at that moment that I was not an animal lover, not in the least.
I have mopped everywhere with bleach and disinfectant, and told the dogs that I do not love them any more, so probably they will be pleased to see Mark when he comes home tonight. They are both traumatised, and it serves them right. I suspect they had eaten something nasty in the Library Gardens, probably a dead hedgehog or somebody’s abandoned curry.
I did not give them any dinner until this evening, and I have given them the dog bones. This is because crunched up bone helps encourage constipation. Also probably it causes some discomfort on its way through and will discourage them from pooing unless it is really, really necessary.
That will show them.
If I had any corks I would have used them today, but all was well when I returned from Kendal, and although I did not exactly forgive them, I did not shout at them again, merely grunted and growled a bit.
They can stay in disgrace until Mark gets back.
Apart from cleaning up disgusting pet accidents I have had a very busy day. I have rushed round making everywhere clean and tidy in readiness for Mark’s return. Mostly it was clean and tidy anyway, but it was Clean Sheets Day, day of much hoovering and dusting, so I did all of that, and filled the fireplace with firewood, and baked another egg cake. I do not suppose that Mark will eat it really, because he likes sugar and butter in his cakes, but I feel that I ought to give him the opportunity to lead a life of virtuous healthy eating should he so wish, which probably he won’t.
I will eat it.
I have written all of this and still not had any customers. I will never get to my first million at this rate. I won’t even be able to afford the entrance fee to the middle classes.
I am going to go and read my book.
