Dear Spike and Dave were still smiling this morning and they didn’t take shelter – I hadn’t thought they would, but knowing you have the option is not a bad thing, when you have a young child. They’re now rather hoping for snow deep enough to dig out a camp in, which I agree would be great fun.
So, I made them hot chocolate and then had hardly waved goodbye when my friend Colin arrived. We were drinking tea when our friend Dave (Dave East, that is) arrived, by arrangement, to measure up for a DIY job he’s doing for me. That is, DIH, I suppose. One of the ones that the Sage had on his list for 20 years and more. He had many good qualities, but he was a starter, not a completer and, since I’m the latter, I always had to exercise patience.
He did too, mind you, but completely discreetly. I have little idea what about me irritated him, because he was too polite to say. I don’t think this is a good thing, because I’m fine about taking a hint and I’d simply have stopped or changed or whatever, but he preferred to keep quiet about such things. I don’t care for rudeness either, I should say, but a nicely-worded explanation is fine. Or maybe I’m perfect and nothing irritated him.*
So, Dave measured up and we chatted some more and he went off with the wood to do the job. I had Christmas pudding for lunch (look, it needs to be eaten. I warmed it in butter, drizzled it with brandy, which I set on fire, and ate it with cream. This is an excellent way of eating leftover Christmas pudding) and then I lay down and had a nap. I can only think it’s lack of alcohol, I get sleepy in the afternoons.
Later, I went to the supermarket. I have to say, the slack-jawed yokels were out in force, mostly blocking the aisles. One portly young woman with a baby in a pushchair blocked me twice so that I had to go another way, she being oblivious the while; the bread aisle was so full of men staring and wondering what to buy that I had to go and do some other shopping before getting my loaf for myself and one for the chickens; the same young woman took up more than half of another aisle but I was able to squeeze past, carefully easing the wheels of my trolley past the wheels of her buggy – she noticed but neither said anything nor moved to give me room – then, two men blocked the wine aisle so that I couldn’t get past to the bogroll aisle, that had been blocked by two other people. The place wasn’t even that busy. A friend posted on Facebook that she had been sneered at by a woman going the wrong way up a one-way street. It seems that the holiday season has been a bit much for some people.
Tonight, I have played the clarinet, cooked dinner (the lastest last of the Christmas beef) and I’m watching something on Netflix, but I can’t remember its name. An American series, part one of the pilot. If it’s good, it’ll last me weeks.
*Absolutely not the case