I still get intimidated rather rapidly by personal paperwork and it’s an absolute nuisance. I do catch up with it in the end, but It’s not unknown for me to take several days to open a letter if I think I might have to act on the contents – which means that, when I do, I have to crack on all the sooner. Perhaps that’s the reason – it’s so much better when I just get on and do things though, straight away.
In terms of getting on with things, we have been vastly sensible and properly sorted out our wills, now. We rather hastily had simple ones done just before getting married – if there had been a disaster then we didn’t want to risk dying intestate – but they didn’t leave things exactly as we wanted and, in my case, my solicitor gave some thought to how to make what I want happen. And now they’re all signed we can forget all about them.
We’re both quite comfortable about discussing such things, though some might find it morbid. I know a lot of people who are quite superstitious about the subject, to the extent of not making a will at all because they think it’ll tempt fate and make them more likely to die. I’m robust in my advice to them – I had a friend phone me last summer, wanting to know the address of my solicitor because he thought it was about time he addressed the issue. He must be nearer 80 than 70 and he has never had a will. I’ve no idea how much money he has but it’s in the hundreds of thousands of pounds at least and could be a nought up on that for all I know. And if he really doesn’t care, taking the assumption that his wife will inherit and if she predeceases him then they don’t mind what happens, then perhaps I am too fussed about it, rather than he being not fussed enough. But I was quite firm with him and, since he asked for it, gave him my opinion.
We went to have dinner with Rose next door last night, which was very cheerful and convivial. She has her Lawrence’s sister staying with her at present, which made five of us. Over the last few days, I have mostly been cooking with milk. We have just two pints a week delivered but often don’t use a quarter of that and rather a lot had built up. I’ll usually use a spare pint or two to make yoghurt, but we both managed to buy some and so had a build up of that too. But I’ve made naan bread and crumpets and two soups with milk in and tonight I’m doing a Madhur Jaffrey dish, where fish is baked in yoghurt. And I gave Rose a pint. So we’ll have to watch out or I’ll need to buy more myself. I’d love to buy Jonny’s wonderful raw milk more often, in fact, but I just don’t have the use for it regularly, not if I want to support doorstep deliveries too.
If I mention that I have a committee meeting tomorrow, please don’t think I’m reverting back to the old days. This is only the second this year and, in regard to the last one, I asked if I were actually needed and, since I wasn’t, gave my apologies. This committee meets for an hour at most, twice a year, so it’s not the biggest ordeal. Actually, I am now playing hooky – I haven’t started to play the music at the church since my operation and, since this is a church committee (not the PCC, I’m not involved with that any more), the subject may come up again. Or they might have found that mp3s and DVDs go down just as well and I’m mostly off the hook. Either way is fine. i’ve got a couple of bottles of port, aka Communion wine, that I must remember to take along anyway. It’s been sitting there in the kitchen since November – they haven’t run out or I would have had a reminder about that. There is no hint of criticism in my saying that it’s a completely valid priority. As my old friend Dave (otherwise known as The Fellow) used to say, “good coffee is part of Mission,” so having unexpectedly good Communion wine, albeit drunk by a single sip, can do nothing but good to the faithful churchgoer. Unless it’s the Methodist church, of course, in which case I realise that unfermented grape juice is perfectly splendid stuff.