The fluctuating state of Toni’s health is the clock which determines our movements. I have only left the house to get essential supplies, so as a holiday I do not think that Christmas 2009 is going to go down in the annals of my festive life as one of the high points!
Never let it be said that I couldn’t scrape significance out of misery. Yesterday was a day in history. I now have all my books within easy reach. Not individual volumes you understand; the chaotic order in which they have been placed on the shelves is almost a work of art that the long lamented ERNIE – that wonder random number generator – would have been proud to claim as its own!
To say nothing of the books which remain in boxes OUTSIDE. Poor things, braving the elements because there was not room at the inn. Before I depart I will have to ensure that they are slightly more protected, even if they cannot be unpacked.
The books inside fare little better than their climate hardened brothers. I now have constructed two rickety piles of books which look as though they have been set up for some sort of Heath Robinson drawing – and the Twin Piles are not going to be the only book orientated construction that is going to be a future feature of the house.
There is one space which could harbour another bookcase which could make a semi-significant difference, but I will have to work on Toni to countenance yet another bibliophilic intrusion into the living room!
The most obvious things which occasion panic just before departure I have dealt with. I have found my passport (valid until 2015) and have printed out the ticket. I have found my UK wallet stuffed with little cash but multitudes of store cards. Even Toni (bless him!) has urged me to add John Lewis Partnership to the deck!
This will be my third trip back to the UK since I moved to Spain: one trip for what turned out to be a death and one for a momentous birthday. This visit is just for me and I am looking forward to it immensely.
As usual my typing is displacement activity: those boxes of books are really heavy and they have to be carried to the third floor.
And there is washing to do!
I shall spend the rest of the time in Castelldefels lazily remembering (r trying to remember) those essential things which one shouldn’t forget for a holiday to be a success.
The one thing that I am determined to remember is to try and find a little serrated edge Kitchen Devil knife. Everyone who uses a kitchen has his own favourite item. For the effete it may be one of the latest capsule coffee machines. For those who can`t be bothered to buy them ready peeled it might be that ancestral yellow plastic peeler, which, in spite of buying newer and more expensive versions still remains the one best suited to purpose (if you haven`t mislaid it as I have) or there may be those neophyte culinary professionals who know that the ‘useful’ knife is the true measure of the person who is at home in the food producing room.
I name no names and I cast no aspersions, but The Knife, my favourite tool (please! Leave those sorts of jokes to Woody Allen!) has been used for more industrial purposes as witness the dented and misaligned serrations. Its replacement is my Quest during my time in Britain. And if I find one then I am going to follow the advice and practice of my mother and buy six. And that is only because even I feel that buying twelve is excessive!
Meanwhile to work!