I am on the taxi rank feeling uninspired.
Of course I like writing to you but it is terribly dull when the most exciting thing that has happened all day has been eating my breakfast.
After eating breakfast we went to sit on the taxi rank, which is where we have been ever since.
There you are, that is my day described in its entirety, except for the dull bits which I have left out.
It has been a happy day despite being dull. We were on our own because Number Two Daughter went off to play rugby, which they won 56 – 17 and Number Two Daughter was Forward Of The Match.
We didn’t know what that was. Mark thought it might be a sort of localised sporting version of Rear Of The Year, but it turned out not to be, it means that she played jolly well and tackled lots of very big girls who came crashing to the ground under her determined assault.
I have got surprising children.
Anyway her absence meant that we pottered about by ourselves, washing dishes and making sandwiches and emptying dogs, and it was all beautifully convivial and contented but not exciting.
I hung the washing out and the Weather Gods caught me out after I went to work. I ignored them loftily, and after a while they got sick of the game and the washing mostly dried anyway. I stopped by the house after I had a job going up to Windermere, just as it was going dark, and brought it all in and hung it up and lit the fire.
That will be nice to go home to later on. We are not going to be late tonight, because of nobody wanting late night taxis on October Sundays. We are going to stay here until the last train has gone and all of the taxis from the station come and invade this taxi rank. After that we will go home and if it isn’t too late we might even have a glass of wine.
In the meantime I have got a good book, written by Alastair Campbell, no less, who turns out to tell a jolly good story. I have written to you, and I am in the middle of a prolonged online discussion with my friend Dave about the rights and wrongs of leaving the EU. I am trying very hard to sound as though I know what am talking about, but I don’t think I do really, it is a jolly complicated thing to think about.
It might all make dull retelling, but fortunately none of it is dull to do. I am having a very happy sort of a day.
We had better hope that tomorrow is interesting as well as pleasant.
Have a picture of a bald dog.
