It was ten o’ clock at night before we finally made it out to work.
This is rubbish even by our standards, how do people manage it by nine o’ clock in the morning? Fortunately Number Two Daughter has been working for ages and says it was quiet, and indeed since we have arrived on the taxi rank ourselves we have mostly sat around designing kitchen shelves, so in the end it probably didn’t matter.
We have been mending the camper van all day.
We made ourselves some sandwiches to take with us before we went to bed last night, and this morning we got up especially early so that we could rush over to the farm and get lots done. We were even up before Number Two Daughter, who usually leaps out of bed when the first blackbird stirs, because of dashing off to the gym. We had to try to tiptoe around so as not to wake her, although since her bedroom is on the third floor, or even the fourth if you are an American, we probably needn’t have worried.
We have been terribly, terribly busy.
We have been rebuilding the wall for the new door, because of making the door hole wider and shorter, and also because of lots of the wood having rotted. In the end some of the wood was so rotten that we had got to take the window out as well.
We rebuilt the wall and put the window back.
I cleared up the mess and made a bonfire of all the horrible powdery black bits whilst Mark sawed and banged and swore.
It was a lovely time in lots of ways, because when Mark wasn’t banging about and saying rude words the whole place was absolutely silent except for the lovely noises of birds singing and bees buzzing about. Usually there is at least the noise of the wind, which makes horrible scary crying noises in the roof of Mark’s shed, but today it was utterly still, and after the rain yesterday everything smelled fresh and gorgeous.
The dogs lay about in the sun and panted, they were too hot even to beg with any enthusiasm when we had our sandwiches, and just looked hopeful on the off chance that would be enough, which obviously it was, because it is terribly unfair not to share with somebody who has only got paws and can’t make a sandwich for themselves.
We got filthy again, and I am getting very bruised and bashed because of being hopelessly clumsy. The worst is the knuckle of my left hand, because of it being the hand that has got to hold the chisel. This has turned out to be an unfairly perilous task, and it is starting to go purple now, my knuckle, not the chisel, obviously.
Whilst we were working I told Mark all about the story which had been my very first moment of me longing for the travelling life, which has inspired me ever since. It all started with a book I had when I was three, called Mr. Tumpy’s Caravan, and which I remember as being utterly magical.
Mr. Tumpy and his dog started off by living with his sister, but left home because she was so grumpy, and bought a magical caravan which didn’t need a horse.
As a small child I thought that this was splendid, and indeed still do.
It was an illustrated book, and Mr. Tumpy’s caravan was marvellous, with a bowtop roof and a little crooked chimney. The reason it didn’t need a horse was not because it was really a camper van but because it had feet and walked by itself.
Now I think that stumping along in a caravan with feet would be quite inconvenient for rattling china and not being able to leave the cork out of the wine bottle, but when I was a child I was entirely enchanted by the idea, and the thought of a horseless-caravan has captivated me ever since.
Mark was not quite as enchanted when I explained to him that apart from the feet I would like a caravan just like that. Actually he laughed, and said that it sounded like Mr. Tumpy had been eating the wrong sort of mushrooms.
All the same he said kindly that he would do his best. We are going to paint the inside of it in lavender and cream, partly because it will look beautiful, but partly because we have still got some lavender paint left from the time when I mistakenly thought that it would look nice to paint the hallway at home in brilliant orange and lavender.
The picture shows the hole where the kitchen ought to be and will be again when Mark has built a kitchen for me. I have seen some beautiful handles for drawers that I would like to put in it, they will look lovely with lavender and cream.
We will get there.
