I am very pleased to announce that Roger Poopy has not done a single rascally thing for the whole day.
There are no mysterious wet patches, no shredded tinsel, no empty chocolate wrappers anywhere. The carpet is as pristine as it was when we got up this morning, which is not very pristine, because of the bad smell which has transferred itself from the farm. We congratulated him heartily when we got home from work, and Mark took him for a walk round the Library Gardens and fed him Good Dog Sausage. Roger danced off happily behind him because of being such a virtuous and successful poopy. He could not have been more pleased had he just passed his GCSE Mandarin.
I have spent today manufacturing a skirt. It is from a roll-end of plaid that I once picked up for a fiver on a market somewhere, which I rather liked and then realised afterwards that it was the exact same as the fabric for Lucy’s uniform skirt from her previous school.
I consulted Mark about the wisdom of making a skirt out of school uniform fabric, but he just made indecent suggestions which had to be ignored when it became apparent that his idea of a nice skirt and mine were not in the least similar, although his did at least have the merit of being economical to construct.
In the end I made a skirt to my usual preferred pattern, which is long and voluminous. This is my favourite sort of skirt because it is comfortably warm and doesn’t get in the way of doing anything in a hurry. Also I do not ever need to wonder if anybody is looking at me and thinking how fat my bottom is, because I know that nobody could possibly tell one way or the other, since it is entirely concealed under several yards of artfully draped school-uniform blue tartan. This is far less effort than doing exercise and I recommend it.
I didn’t finish the skirt because of not having a zip, and the tiresome haberdasher in the village having gone away on holiday and thoughtlessly closed the shop. She will never earn any money like that. I was going to spend three quid in there today and now I will have to go to Kendal Market tomorrow instead, and she has lost it for ever.
Mark took the dogs off to the farm where as well as working on the camper van he is building a forge. He is very full of things that he wants to do, it is a good job that he is too busy actually to do any of them. He has got plans for building both a rocket and a cold fusion reactor. He tells me about these sometimes and explains how they could be done. I have told him that he can have a go when he has finished building the camper van, and the other camper van, and the taxis are working properly. If he really wants a break from building the camper van he could always put up some shelves in his shed. I do not feel any great need to be in possession of a home-built rocket at the moment.
We finished the day with a swim and going to work, and I am just in the process of getting ready to go to bed now.
I would just like to conclude by adding as a footnote a brief personal message to a chap who I know reads these pages occasionally, and whom I suspect is going to be so bored for the next week that he is quite likely to read absolutely anything.
Dear My Hairdresser,
I am very sorry indeed to hear that you have had a heart attack, what a good job I have just had my hair cut and won’t need to trouble you again for a couple of weeks.
I am, however, pleased to hear that you are recovering splendidly, please carry on doing so, you may not be aware of this, but the people of Kendal need you.
Without you there is only that reckless and unreliable bunch at Toni and Guy, who are all very well if you would like your hair to be purple, or long on one side and short on the other. I don’t want either of these things and I want you to know that you are all that is standing between me and a potentially ridiculous haircut.
Kindly pay attention to whatever ghastly suggestions your GP dreams up for diet and exercise etc until you are recovered. In any case he will only nag you about them for a week or two and after that he will forget and you can get on with red wine and bacon and chocolate in front of the television like the rest of the population.
Can I recommend knitting as an occupation until you are allowed to get back to cutting people’s hair? It is nicely sedentary and might save you having to purchase a couple of Christmas presents.
Get well soon, please.
Sarah xx
