The weather has become truly dreadful.
All the same, I have had a lovely day.
Mark cautiously reversed the the camper van out of its drying-out spot in the alley at the back of the house where it has been annoying our neighbours, and took the dogs off to the farm.
I was not going anywhere and did not have to worry about driving rain and foot-deep puddles and slowly building hurricane winds.
I busied myself comfortably in the kitchen.
I lit a lovely honey-scented candle that I bought online in a recklessly expensive moment last year. It was a hedonistically indulgent purchase, and I have been saving it for a moment when I wanted somebody to be kind to me.
It was splendid, and reassured me perfectly that I am loved and thoroughly looked-after, especially by me.
I put the Planet Suite and then Beethoven’s sonatas on the music bit of my computer, because I don’t have to pretend to be sophisticated when I am in by myself, and hummed gently around the kitchen, slicing melon and peppers and cutting cheese into cubes to mix into pasta salad.
Outside the rain hurtled down.
Mark rang from the farm. The camper van, it seems, has developed a leak next to one of the skylights.
This is a dreadful thing to happen, so I was very glad that it was Mark’s problem and not mine. It appears that as we drive, the whole van flexes slightly, and some of the worse older roof-holes have re-opened and torn away from the filler.
Mark is irritated about this because it means that he is going to have to make a big patch with a piece of aluminium, instead of just glueing holes shut with Sikkaflex, which is one of his favourite things.
It also means that we are going to have to leave the camper van in the shed until it is done, given the current start of meteorological affairs here in Windermere.
What a good job that we have still got a shed.
Mark was not pleased. If the camper van is in the shed being mended, it means that he is not creating trailer storage for everything else, nor is he sorting through years worth of tools and timber and steel and spare car bits to see what we can manage to keep. It means that he is busy, and all his available space is full of camper van, and we have now got about three weeks until we have got to leave.
Sometimes life can be a bit worrying, but I am sure it will all come out all right.
I went to pick him up, because of the camper van having to stay where it is, and made soothing noises, which did not work.
It was so grey and miserable that we lit the fire when we got home. The dehumidifier is still in the camper van, so now the house is warm and damp, but this is all right, because outside is cold and sodden.
We pottered about for a bit, and then went back to bed for an hour until it was time for work. The house still smelled of reassuring honey-candle when we got up, so that we knew we were still comfortably safe from the weather.
We are at work now, and it is very quiet, probably because everybody looked out of their windows when they were considering whether or not to go out for the evening.
The picture is the view from our back garden before we went to work. It does not make me think of mellow fruitfulness.
