I felt a little het-up by the end of the day. I biked in to the school for a Year 9 music lesson and felt tired. When I got home, though, the children were in the garden on their climbing frame, which is a substantial wooden one with a house at the top and a staircase, which the Sage and Al made last year. They saw me and Squiffany called me over. “Granny, granny, granny” remarked Pugsley with enthusiasm and his sister came across the garden to meet me. I cheered up.
This afternoon, I had a governors’ meeting and had a couple of long conversations afterwards which were illuminating, but meant I didn’t arrive home until half past six. At least it’s downhill on the way home, because I had been almost too tired to pedal up the hill to the school. A week off from cycling and I’ve lost all my strength. “Too late for tea” said the Sage, pouring me a glass of wine. I prepared a dish of celery, carrots and cucumber, because I was vastly hungry, and went next door to read and reply to emails on Dilly’s laptop.
Tomorrow, I’m going to meet my sister in London. The plan is to have a long and boozy lunch, go to an exhibition – there’s something she wants to see at the National Portrait Gallery and then I’ll catch the 4 o’clock train home again. Actually, we’ll probably go to the exhibition before lunch, as we may not have time and be too pissed (in the English sense) afterwards.
I’m writing this on Ro’s laptop. He has a plastic crate which held vegetables to put it on when it’s on his lap to raise it to a comfortable level and not to get hot, but to fit it on my knees I’m having to lean right back in the chair. It’s not uncomfortable, but it feels odd as I always sit bolt upright at the computer. In fact, I sit on a stool rather than a chair as I never lean back.
Ro is doing a website for Al – the boy is endlessly good-natured, as he does this all week for a living and we all want him to do things for us in his spare time. It’ll be about vegetables, of course. And paper bags. He has perfected some splendid paper bags made out of newspaper, which he makes in odd moments when there aren’t any customers in the shop. Ro does the Sage’s website now, I don’t think I’ve mentioned it – it’s here. D’you like it?
Dave suggests I don’t write for three weeks while he is away, so that he doesn’t have to spend hours catching up on his return. He’s so charming. Because, obviously, the implication is that if I do write, he’ll read it all, however long it takes and however much I ramble.