Wish you were here

As well as the day’s usual dog-walking, gardening, shopping and other routine domestic maintenance, I realised that today’s visit by a brother would, if he was to be reasonably comfortable overnight, require the rediscovery of the spare bed. I know it’s in the room somewhere, and I suspect underneath the Boy’s skiwear and the boxes of Christmas decorations which I really should have put back in the loft months ago. So that was a major task. Of course opening the loft hatch means all the dust and grime and crud and dead flies fall down onto the bedroom carpet, so rather than have a crunchy sound underfoot when you walk to the bathroom, vacuuming needed to be done.

Then it was time to wash, remove the dead flies and cobwebs from my hair, change into my identifying “I Thing” tee-shirt and go to Warwick to meet up with Lordhutton. Typically, it was colder today than of late, so I would have been happier with a couple more layers, but at least it did some advertising for ShopDonkey. (Good fortune meant I parked the car next to J3 FLE, the third in the game enjoyed by Stu of spotting consecutive car numbers, which we have been keeping our eyes out for some days, having ‘bagged’ Y1 ASW and C2 LCK a while back. Typically, there were two others ‘3’s within a hundred yards.) Anyway, I arrived at the meeting-point as the clock struck two (coincidentally, the agreed meeting time), and dutifully phoned him. As is usual in these circumstances the stranger you are calling turns out to be standing mere feet away from you, so you get the strange stereo effect of hearing their voice in both your telephone ear and the free ear. He appeared relieved that I was wearing more than just my I Thing tee-shirt, and we adjourned to a convenient watering hole. A very pleasant interlude – nice bloke, hutters.

Oh, and Happy Birthday, Ned! The beer that my bro brought for you wouldn’t keep till you get back, so were drinking it for you. It’s lovely – you’d have enjoyed it!