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Slowly but surely
Tomorrow I have one of my least favourite jobs, that of shifting furniture in preparation for work. Electricians are due to arrive to bring the wiring up to date. The fusebox needs replacing as do many of the wall sockets because they have no on/off switches. Some of the ceiling pendants need replacing too as they are worn. That means another job for me is to remove the lampshades which, I bet, will be covered in dust. I haven't ventured much above waist height yet in my cleaning.
Tomorrow's work will mean disruption; the little order I have created will be undone. I wonder if I should fill thermos flasks with hot water so I can make cups of tea.
The helpful neighbour, whom I shall refer to as HN from now, has been researching fence panels. He came round this morning with his findings so far. He had looked at the prices in Wickes and another place and had B&Q, Homebase and a local shop still to check. He suggested the panels were delivered to his house, then a neighbour could help him insert them into the concrete posts. Someone else had a van big enough to take them to another person who had an indoor wood-burning stove that heated his house. He had it all planned. Made me feel feeble in comparison. What could I do? Make the tea was all I could think of. Actually, I can start digging up the ivy that is growing up the fence and remove all its roots.
One battle I am winning is that against the ground elder. My repeated squirtings have paid off; little remains. Each evening I go out with my container of noxious chemical and spray any shoots that have dared to sprout.
I shall hastily stop now because a large insect has flown in through the open window and is buzzing around in the lampshade directly above my head.
Thought for today
Life is the funny thing that happens to you on the way to the grave.
Quentin Crisp (1908 - 1999) in Spectator, 20 November 1999
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