The day went smoothly, just not as planned. I set off for the station on time, the train arrived and left on time, I got to the flat without any problems. I unpacked my stuff, evaluated what I needed and set off for the supermarket.
What I was there to do was to paint the stairs; the actual treads. Everything else has been done. I was going to go tomorrow but I’ve got a cleaner booked and I thought the paint should have an extra day to dry, so I postponed my appointment here until Friday. But the first change was when the agent phoned asking if I could drop off a key by quarter to one, because she’d got a couple who wanted to view at one o’clock. So I said yes, all right, I can do my painting in the afternoon.
I’d been to Sainsbury’s and fetched the other things I needed and was on my way back when I had another call from the agent. Another person wanted to view at five o’clock. Hmm. I explained about the staircase. She said maybe it won’t matter, she’ll check it out when she comes at one.
And, as is well known, I’m a sensible Z. The agents don’t think anyone will be put off at all by the stairs (from the downstairs passage up to the flat itself) looking a bit scuffed, especially when it’s explained that they will be painted before the new tenant moves in. So I did the other jobs necessary – except one that proved to be not possible without help – and I’ve left everything ready for the cleaner who’s coming in on Thursday.
Meanwhile, LT was here at home dealing with a cow that had escaped from a field and got into our drive. He dealt with it of course, helped by the fact that a passer by knew who owned her and was able to phone.
On the way back, I travelled from Angel tube station to Liverpool Street in a quarter of an hour – that’s down two long escalators (one of them is the longest in London) and down lengthy corridors, two stops to Moorgate, more long corridors and on to another train – which was sitting there with its doors open as I dashed onto the platform. A young woman got out of my way so quickly that she lost a shoe. Then one more stop, out through the barrier, onto the station, check the platform while I was scuttling along, the while getting out my phone and finding my eticket, showing it to the woman at the barrier and hurrying along to the waiting train. As I got to the barrier, it was 2.58. The kind guard was holding the train door open, so I thanked him in a few profuse words, got on and exchanged a few more relieved ones with the other passenger who’d been just in front of me, and we were still trailing through first class carriages when the train left at 3 o’clock.
Back here, Roses has left her pet cockerel Clawd with me as she’ll be away overnight. He climbed on my shoulder, then on my head and trampled around for a while. He’s in bed now, in a cage covered by a rug, in the (probably vain) hope that he won’t crow too early in the morning. He is very young and makes a rather pathetic attempt so far.
LT made Salad Niçoise for dinner, using mostly produce from the garden, though not the olives. And I’m likely to have an early night. It seems to have been a long day.