We went over to mum’s today to do things. Do shizz, as I think I said in the text message to my mother. And then spent three or four further messages explaining what I meant by shizz. But yeah, we went over to mum’s to make the most of the nice weather and get stuff done.
I wanted to sort out stuff in the garage and do a few odds-and-sods and Carole needed to book flights for their outing to Toulouse to see my Uncle. And all was right with the world. The sun was shining, birds were singing and I wasn’t working.
I think we’d been there about an hour before a shift came in for me. Because, obviously, that’s how things work. I was on a pretty decent roll and actually getting stuff done which is rare when it comes to sorting out the garage – normally it’s just moving things from one side to the other. But I was doing things. I was just about to start the fun task of sawing up all the awkward bits of firewood I haven’t been able to axe into oblivion and *ting* I find out I will be needed at work later.
There was already a shift in for today – you never really know which way Good Friday will go, with it being a day people set off on trips and the fact that the weather was beautiful. But there was one shift and, it stood to reason, if anything else came in today they would also be assigned to the person who was already in.
Of all the slots, though, throughout the whole day – the booking comes in for the one in the same time slot.
Of course it does.
So there’s me, in a garage in Halifax, covered in bits of soil and muck from a cold frame which, when it situ would fall apart as soon as you looked at it but when you wanted to take it apart would refuse, point blank, to break into its component pieces, needing to go to work.
I tried to sort of subtly point out that I was busy by sending my boss a picture of what I was doing – i.e. a picture of the whole garage – but that sort of backfired and ended up with us selling him two of the numerous stepladders enshrined in the depths. Which is great, I guess, from a tidying point of view because it’s two less things to sort out in the long run, and how many ladders does one half-blind doddery pensioner need anyway. You know, really.
I was a bit miffed though, because I don’t feel like I achieved a whole lot today and I was definitely in the groove for sorting stuff out. I could definitely have gone longer. But Carole was happy with what we achieved, and we did pretty much tick off everything on mum’s hastily written and hard-to-read to do list.
And made her some money from the sale of ladders in the process.