It is after eleven, and I am only just starting to write this, so probably it will be short.
The reason for such tardiness is, as last night, the cheery garrulousness of taxi drivers when the sun is shining and also when we have got a common foe to be discussed and vilified.
One of the newly-arrived and terribly unpopular Uber cars had the jolly cheek to drive on to the taxi rank this afternoon and shout at the waiting taxis to get out of his way. He was met, it appears, with a show of indignant force which caused him to drive off very hastily indeed. I was not there but I know it is true because I have heard the story from several different sources and seen the dashcam footage, so I don’t feel as though I have missed out on an adventure.
Anyway, the evening has been balmy and pleasant, and we have all been hanging about leaning on the sides of the taxis and gassing. I like the company of taxi drivers, we all have a very similar attitude to customer relations. I called Z the other night to apologise for telling one of his customers to sling his hook, only I didn’t say sling his hook. Z interrupted after about five seconds to say, magnanimously, Is no need. You know we don’t carry horrid people, only he didn’t say horrid people.
Hence I have not written anything, and am frantically trying to get a few words down before I go home to bed. I am keen to go to bed, because it has been a busy sort of day. I have finished building the arches, and am very sorry indeed that I can’t put a picture on here to show you all, because I am really pleased with them.
They are large and green, and covered in fairy lights, and I think they look magnificent.
I showed Oliver, and he laughed, quite a lot. Then he said kindly that he was sure they were lovely, and patted my shoulder encouragingly.
I expect Mark will like them, although I would not wager any money on the rest of the children’s admiration.
I don’t care. Everybody going past has made very polite noises, and hardly anybody laughed.
I did not just finish the arches. I finished the mossy bit yesterday, and today I built a flower bed underneath them. This was terribly difficult, I had my tongue sticking out and everything, and I had been so worried about it that I had nightmares about it last night. In the nightmares I was building a pavement out of a pile of kerb stones and somebody from the council came along to tell me I was not doing it properly.
In actuality I sawed up some planks and screwed them together, not terribly tidily, and I know that when Mark sees it he will not say anything but will wait for a time when I am not there, and then take it all apart and screw it together properly. I am secretly a bit relieved about this because it does not look brilliant, but I am going to plant our wisteria bush in it tomorrow anyway.
We have had the wisteria growing in the back yard for what seems like years and years, and it has not yet flowered. According to the Royal Horticultural Society this can take twenty years. I am not terribly impressed with this, but am going to shove it underneath the arches anyway, in the hope that it will be sufficiently surprised at the change to make some effort. I had planned to dig it out this afternoon, but time ran away from me even then, and by the time I had finished doing the things that I really couldn’t ignore for any longer, like the shocking mess in the back yard caused by a large pile of unsawn firewood and hundreds of splattered blackcurrants, it was time to go to work.
It is now half past two and I am in bed, fighting off sleep. I am so tired that I am not going to bother telling you about watering the garden with nematodes or rushing about being late for work.
I am just going to press Send and go to sleep.
Goodnight.
