In the last week, we’ve been to Reading and Wales and back, and blogging on the phone isn’t my favourite activity. We were in Pembrokeshire for all of a day and a half, and it turned out not to be restful at all. London Stuff hadn’t been done by the person who should have done it, and I had to sort it out instead, and I was in discussion, at various times, with cleaners, builders, the guy next door, the guy downstairs and the guy at the agents, as well as my new tenant, who sounds just lovely. Mostly, I was climbing up hills or down to the beach, trying to get a signal on my phone, or stopping in lay-bys for the same thing. But never mind. It’s all sorted efficiently, amicably and cheerfully and that’s worth a lot.
I reckon I’m showing my age, in that I’m not as adaptable as I was – which has nothing to do with the last paragraph. We took LT’s car, which is a joy to drive: but it’s got manual gears. I’ve used manual and automatic transmission pretty well all the time I’ve been driving, which is coming perilously close to 49 years now. My mother drove an automatic and I was always welcome to use it, and I’ve had automatics myself for the last few years. I can change back pretty well but I had to drive into Yagnub soon after we got home today, because I needed to get a parcel weighed to let a client know the cost of postage. And I was trying to change the gears on my car. Better than not using the clutch on LT’s, but d’oh, all the same.
Wink has come up to stay, but she forgot we’d be away so arrived on Monday. She could have stayed here on her own, of course, but it wouldn’t have been much fun. So she’s been with Weeza and co. We have an appointment in Norwich tomorrow and then back here again. It’s her birthday on Sunday but she can’t stay that long, so we’re planning a lovely meal for tomorrow night. We’re thinking some particularly fabulous fish, local asparagus, ditto strawberries and we’re hoping that the Jersey Royal potato season has started. If so, it’ll be perfect.