This is going to be a short entry because I am intoxicated.
I have not had a very great deal to drink, but I am something of an amateur drinker these days, and two glasses of wine followed by one of whisky has left me feeling extremely fuzzy.
I quite like this. Clear-headed can be over-rated.
Also you might be pleased to hear that I am not at work.
We did not go to work this evening. Mark has spent all day mending taxis. I have spent all day cutting and sticking Advent calendars, and we decided that taxis and dinner were just too difficult, so we went to the Indian restaurant instead.
Talking of taxis, I had an email this morning requesting that I give evidence to the Government’s Transport Committee, which is conducting a formal Inquiry into the currently deplorable state of the English taxi industry. They are contemplating changing the rules which are making it so easy for Uber to behave like rogues and villains and to stamp around Windermere as if they were John Company marching into Delhi for the first time.
You might recall that I am not especially impressed by Uber, and over the last few months I have communicated this sentiment to our beloved leaders in a series of lengthy and detailed emails. I was pleased and surprised this morning to discover that somebody, probably a disaffected civil servant, has actually read them, or if not exactly read them, thinks that it will be entertaining for the Committee to be obliged to listen to the unhinged rantings of elderly taxi drivers.
I do not have to go to London. It is not that exciting. I have got to have a Zoom meeting in a couple of weeks
I am busy making a list of things I want to say. It is quite long already.
I am sure they will be delighted to hear my opinions.
Apart from contemplating the woes of the taxi industry, I have had a busy day. I have been making the calendars, and my clothes, my hair, the carpet, and indeed the whole of my office are all coated with a layer of glue and glitter.
I have had to order some more glitter.
Jack arrived when I was halfway through. He has come up for a few days to help with the general motoring crisis. Oliver got up when he arrived, having worked all night, and the two of them disappeared off to the shed where Mark had been spending the day reassembling his taxi.
It was very quiet in here. Mark had even taken the dogs with him.
I was also very pleased to have a communication from our beloved Midland, where we are going to go for our Christmas pantomime adventure after all. It was all booked and paid for when Number One Daughter qualified for the finals of the World Very Fit Person Championships, which are in Copenhagen, regrettably at the same time. Of course they can’t be in two places at once, and entertaining as it might be to sit in a theatre bellowing It’s Behind You at Buttons, she thought she might prefer to be bouncing on and off boxes in Copenhagen.
I understood this, although not without some regrets about the massive wasted cost of their hotel room, but this morning I had an email from the Midland saying very kindly that under the circumstances, they would be happy for us to use the booking at another time.
This is more than generous because it was a special Cheap Non Refundable Not A Chance Mate, Cash Up Front Now Or Forget It sort of deal, and I had not expected that in the least.
Hence we have decided that we will actually use the booking for ourselves, without any children anywhere at all, in January, and go and watch To Kill A Mockingbird at the Lowry Theatre. This has improved my mood very much indeed.
We have not just wasted a lot of money. Instead we have got something grown-up and splendid to look forward to, and it will hardly cost anything because it is paid for already. Suddenly the world is a cheerful place.
The dogs are snoring at my feet. They are exhausted after their day in the great outdoors. I have every sympathy.
I am going to go and do the same.
