Sleepy times

Friday May 6, 2005

Up early despite my late night Election watching. I turned on the TV for a little while to be assured that Labour has been returned to power, with a much reduced majority. So far as I’m concerned that’s the best possible result, keeping the Conservatives out and ensuring that Tony Blair attends to important things for a change.

Then, still early, off we went to Boston to put Graham on the train to Somerset for a week’s relief bar work. For once, the traffic in the town was quite low and we got there in good time for a coffee and last minute chat in the station bar. I received my final instructions regarding house presentation, and with a roar not of steam but of stinking diesel, the train took him off, out of sight.

It’s not terribly likely we’ll be getting any viewers next week but the agents will be calling on Monday, so I’ll need to keep the standard of cleanliness up at least until then. And, rather than get caught on the hop, I plan to continue with a daily pass over the house to be sure it’s ready for viewing just in case some mustard keen buyers appear.

To Tesco’s for provisions—mostly ping food—to see me through the best part of the week, and then I took myself off over the country roads back home.

“It’s just you and me for a week now, Dolly,” I said. “I expect you to behave, and not make a mess.”

“Hmmmph,” said Dolly.

Somewhere along the way home the radio informed me that the Queen had asked Tony Blair to form a government, so that’s it for another election. Now I can forget politics for four or five years. That’s the best way with politicians, I reckon. Forget ’em. They’re best forgot.

One blessing comes from it all, though. It’s exceedingly unlikely we’ll be going to war again during the remainder of Blair’s ministry. The Iraq affair, while effective in removing a monster from the world stage, was of dubious legality and has been a majorly divisive factor. Still is, if truth be told. The Afghanistan venture was little better but seems forgot already. And I’m positive that the Balkan interventions are forgot.

I wasn’t much concerned with all of that by the time I munched away at a sandwich lunch, though. I was tired, so took myself off to bed for an extended nap.

Apart from a call from Somerset to let me know he’d arrived safely, the rest of the day passed without event. I was still tired, though, so had an early dinner, and was soon ready for bed.

“That’ll do it for today,” I said to Dolly. “Let’s turn in, shall we?”

Darn cat was already sound asleep on the sofa and didn’t even twitch an ear in return. I resisted the urge to prod a response from her but, shortly after I snapped the light off, a heavy thump came at the foot of the bed and she snuggled up against my feet.

“So I should jolly well think, Dolly,” I said. “You’re supposed to be looking after me this week.”

If she responded I didn’t notice. I was asleep at the time.

 


Lincoln, May '05
Waiting for espresso
pencam photo


 

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