I’d rather put it all behind me, I’ve managed to clear the decks for the weekend pretty well and I’m not going to call myself lazy for at least a week as a consequence. Tomorrow, I’m having a new mattress delivered, which was only ordered this afternoon – the local shop is fabulous. Al and Dilly bought a new bed when they moved and left their wooden bedstead behind, telling us that it could do with a new mattress and, since the room will probably be called into use over the blog party weekend, I knew I had to deal with it. But there were a number of more pressing matters and it’s a mark of my getting on with things that I can look a whole fortnight ahead now. And it was easy. I walked in, was taken up to the top floor where they keep the stock, I chose a mattress and agreed a delivery time of 8.30 tomorrow morning, paid and walked out, all within ten minutes. It’s the best shop in the world. You can buy a reel of cotton, a ball of wool or a pair of gloves, or else a glamourous nightie or some old-fashioned big knickers, you can carpet your house and go some way towards furnishing it and you can buy your bed, duvet and pillows there and have a reasonable choice of linen for it, as well as a range of materials for the curtains. Which they will make for you if you aren’t that sort of needleperson. And it’s all done at a fair price, promptly. Yagnub is a lucky town.
But I’m a pretty lucky Z too, as far as customer service goes. I’ve had to deal with a good many firms by phone yesterday and today and they have all been fabulous. It’s turned a dreary and tedious amount of work into something that has given me satisfaction for a job that’s been well completed, even if it’s left me drained.
Tonight, I’m listening to Radio 3 iPlayer, the recording of Peter Grimes. When I went on Sunday, they were recording for the beach performances, but on Friday it was being played live on Radio 3 and that’s what I’ve got on. Lovely, brings back the feel of five nights ago.
Last night, after an hour’s sleep, I woke and couldn’t sleep again. At 1.30 there was the ping of an email from a member of staff. A few minutes later, another and then a third. I was being copied into emails, they weren’t addressed to me, but all the same, I emailed back … “M, shouldn’t you get some sleep?” I asked mildly. I received the reply at 7.24. H’m. A work/life balance slippage there.
This evening, I combed Ben. I filled the wastepaper basket with hair. At least the carpet (which is Ben-coloured) should be spared for the next couple of days. The Sage has been splendid, doing most of the dog-walking, but Ben and I had a lovely cuddle and a frolic this afternoon and he knows I still love him, however busy I am. A bit earlier, the Sage had called me. “Ben’s got something in his mouth.” He picks up all sorts of things he shouldn’t, so I addressed him sternly. “Give, Ben, give,” and prised his mouth open. Staring him in the eye made him submit. On his tongue was one of his own dog biscuits, uneaten. He’d have let me take it, too. Of course, I let him go and said he could eat it. But I’m not sure there has ever been a sweeter-natured dog, ever.