Today wanted to be ordinary but when I found myself getting out of bed at 5.00 a.m., I ceased to regard that as a strong possibility. I can't remember what I did at that time. I think I pottered about on the computer for a bit. Then I ate a small bowl of muesli and went back to bed for a nap until my alarm woke me up at 8.30. The washing and dressing ritual (brief version today, and I make no reference to underpants there) rolled out and I was in the car driving She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Mentioned (SWMNBM) to the city at 9.30. Having ejected SWMNBM, barely slowing down at what used to be Mowbray Park hotel, I whizzed over to Roker beach, gliding my darling little Corsa into a welcoming slot right next to the Bungalow cafe atop the cliff overlooking the harbour. There I met my friend Tom Young: two retired men in search of The Full English! We sat, we ordered, we drank coffee, and before long our gnashers were tearing into the rashers. Mmmm.... This is becoming our mid-week treat.
First we talked carpets. Well, what else can you do with a fried mushroom in your mouth? We did not tarry long on this topic; the language of weft and warp soon gave way to that of the sharp and the flat. Guitars, picking, strumming, singing, gigs, strings and plecs were at one and the same time the tools and topics that sculpted our conversational flow. The upshot of this is that I shall drive Tom up to the Holystone buskers night tomorrow, run by Steve Dagget. We hope to meet up with Tony Machin who will also be playing. Many years ago, the three of us, together, ran the Glebe Live Music club for the best part of a decade.
I suggested to Tom that a good pace for retirement was not to have more than one project per day, thus leaving lots of time for pottering, taking naps, and noodling around on the guitar. I intimated that our having had a leisurely two hour breakfast together constituted quite enough excitement for one day. Indeed, I was looking forward to a moderately slothful time ahead.
It all started to unravel when I entertained the notion that I would drive to the supermarket after I returned home. God knows what put that silly idea into my head. Things then got totally out of control when SWMNBM suggested I call into the carpet shop and book an estimate. I did this and spoke to a very nice young man called Dale. He phoned the estimator and tantalised me with the possibility that we could have it done this afternoon. My dear blogophiles, I was torn. On the one hand I wanted to get the estimate thing over and done with. Yet as my new friend Dale dangled the phone in his hand and raised an eyebrow in my direction, the possibility of an afternoon nap began to haemorrhage from my consciousness, spewing despair and frustration in equal measure in a puddle around my feet.
I made the appointment, gritted my teeth, and drove to the supermarket. There, like a fool, I bought food (much of it chilled or frozen). I got home and started to unpack. I opened the freezer compartment. Blogophiles, it had defrosted! The fridge/freezer was broken. I tried several strategies of resuscitation, but the machine obstinately remained inert. Regrettably it had a good warm body temperature. Apart from weeping, I even switched it off and on a few times (I mean, how sophisticated does one's knowledge of electrical engineering have to be?)
Then carpet man came. He was very nice and very helpful. He left and I had to go for my weekly piano lesson. As usual, I played dreadfully for my teacher and even worse this week because I was thinking about the fridge and the carpet when I should have been noticing that I was playing in Bb and not C. When I got back from the lesson, I phoned the store where we had bought the fridge. Fortunately, I had allowed the salesmen to sell me one of those extended warranties. So I have booked the service engineer to come out and fix it. But s/he can't come until Monday afternoon. That's about 4 days we shall have to wait.
I was beginning to feel a bit fed up by this time. Still, I grew up in a family home without a fridge (I think my Mum got one when I was about 18). So I cast my mind back to the sorts of foods we kept in our pantry and how long they would last. At this time of the year my little conservatory can easily serve as a cool room. So, I moved some stuff out there in plastic bags. And then Maddelena, our friend, said she could take some stuff and put it in her fridge. So I drove round to her house with a couple of more bags of food. When I got home it was too late for a nap. I felt very tired, but I had to eat the pizza I had bought because I didn't think that would keep. I had a glass of milk with it and also a couple of fresh tomatoes. I might have sat and watched the evening news while I ate the pizza, but my daughter is away and had a tape set up for some programmes tonight. I let the TV alone, since I didn't want to do anything to mess up her taping schedule. I've been trying to get an extra aerial put into my study upstairs. I've made several attempts to fix this up with one company in the North East, and they are hopeless. The say they will come and then they don't turn up. They say they will phone back and then they don't. You phone the number and you don't know who you are going to speak to. Complete and utter shambles! I need to find a self-employed fitter who is sensible and reliable. Grrr!!!!
This is the first blog of any length I have written since I blogged for the Sunderland Echo. I might well continue along this vein. I think I will still blog as ‘Enigmatic Pencil’ and I shall finish as I used to with my Echo blogs. So, until the next time, I remain...
Your very own,
Enigmatic Pencil
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