There was a knock on the door yesterday. Normally, I should have been returning to work following the Easter break, and duly I rose at 6 a.m (because old habits die hard) to find I had a day of sunshine and unplanned hours ahead of me. My services were no longer required by my place of work. I was to be paid until the end of the month, but need not attend for the last two days of my contract. Freebie days, I suppose you could call them. Or payback days. I don't know. Whatever. Back to the knock on the door...
...Sir Oddly-Strange had come to visit, bringing with him his ancient and sage aunt, Lady Posy Tive-Outlook.
'Ah, Lady Malarkey!' said Sir Oddly-Strange, stepping into the hall. 'I've brought Laughter with me. I hope you don't mind,' and from behind his legs emerged his large Golden Retriever. Sir Oddly enjoyed the company of dogs and often could be found rolling around on the floor with Laughter. Lady Posy swept forward in her glorious Regency silk dress and proffered a curtsey which I returned, looking rather incongruous in my tartan jimjam bottoms, alpaca wool bed socks and T-shirt emblazoned with the words 'You cannot imagine the immensity of the s**t I do not give'.
'My dear,' said Lady Posy, 'you are as yet undressed. Do you not have work to attend?'
I admitted I did not, that as from 1st May I would be officially unemployed.
Lady Posy clapped her hands. 'Oh but this is indeed joyous news!' she trilled.
'Indeed it is,' said I. 'And it couldn't have happened at a better time. The mortgage is paid, renovations are almost complete on the Manor, save for some decorating of the master bedroom, and I have signed up for an organic vegetable box delivery because I shall be around to receive it and it won't ever be left to suffer outside in the rain or scorching heat because I am at work.'
Sir Oddly-Strange coughed. 'This is all marvellous. I have no idea of the implications regarding this 'mortgage' burden of which you speak because the Oddly-Strange's have always inherited everything, but it sounds like a positive event to have occurred. Tell me, though - what are you to do with your days, now you are Lady Malarkey of Leisure?'
By now I had ushered Sir Oddly-Strange and Lady Posy into the Breakfast Room and extended the invitation for them to join me for, well, breakfast. Sir Oddly-Strange declined the Much Malarkey Manor special recipe muesli in favour of a light repast of kedgeree, kippers, eggs, bacon, mushrooms, a large sausage and several rounds of toast and jam. Lady Posy rather enjoyed the muesli and asked for the recipe, and did I think it would be appropriate to add a lightly boiled egg, or some Marmite, perchance? I said, whatever floats your boat, Lady Posy, which started Sir Oddly-Strange revealing exactly what floated his boat which turned out to be rather inappropriate for genteel conversation purposes, and it was a blessed relief to the ladies present when Laughter distracted us by launching himself through the open French windows at a rather bold pigeon.
The interlude had given me time to think about exactly what I would be doing with the day that stretched ahead. The company of Sir Oddly-Strange helped alleviate the feelings of strange oddness that I felt because I was not at work. And Lady Posy Tive-Outlook kept me very buoyant, and not just because she is the current World Champion in 'Using Pantaloons To Create an Emergency Floating Aid Should You Find Yourself Stranded in Rough Waters.' Therefore, when I met them for dinner that evening, I was able to report that during the day I had:
...Sir Oddly-Strange had come to visit, bringing with him his ancient and sage aunt, Lady Posy Tive-Outlook.
'Ah, Lady Malarkey!' said Sir Oddly-Strange, stepping into the hall. 'I've brought Laughter with me. I hope you don't mind,' and from behind his legs emerged his large Golden Retriever. Sir Oddly enjoyed the company of dogs and often could be found rolling around on the floor with Laughter. Lady Posy swept forward in her glorious Regency silk dress and proffered a curtsey which I returned, looking rather incongruous in my tartan jimjam bottoms, alpaca wool bed socks and T-shirt emblazoned with the words 'You cannot imagine the immensity of the s**t I do not give'.
'My dear,' said Lady Posy, 'you are as yet undressed. Do you not have work to attend?'
I admitted I did not, that as from 1st May I would be officially unemployed.
Lady Posy clapped her hands. 'Oh but this is indeed joyous news!' she trilled.
'Indeed it is,' said I. 'And it couldn't have happened at a better time. The mortgage is paid, renovations are almost complete on the Manor, save for some decorating of the master bedroom, and I have signed up for an organic vegetable box delivery because I shall be around to receive it and it won't ever be left to suffer outside in the rain or scorching heat because I am at work.'
Sir Oddly-Strange coughed. 'This is all marvellous. I have no idea of the implications regarding this 'mortgage' burden of which you speak because the Oddly-Strange's have always inherited everything, but it sounds like a positive event to have occurred. Tell me, though - what are you to do with your days, now you are Lady Malarkey of Leisure?'
By now I had ushered Sir Oddly-Strange and Lady Posy into the Breakfast Room and extended the invitation for them to join me for, well, breakfast. Sir Oddly-Strange declined the Much Malarkey Manor special recipe muesli in favour of a light repast of kedgeree, kippers, eggs, bacon, mushrooms, a large sausage and several rounds of toast and jam. Lady Posy rather enjoyed the muesli and asked for the recipe, and did I think it would be appropriate to add a lightly boiled egg, or some Marmite, perchance? I said, whatever floats your boat, Lady Posy, which started Sir Oddly-Strange revealing exactly what floated his boat which turned out to be rather inappropriate for genteel conversation purposes, and it was a blessed relief to the ladies present when Laughter distracted us by launching himself through the open French windows at a rather bold pigeon.
The interlude had given me time to think about exactly what I would be doing with the day that stretched ahead. The company of Sir Oddly-Strange helped alleviate the feelings of strange oddness that I felt because I was not at work. And Lady Posy Tive-Outlook kept me very buoyant, and not just because she is the current World Champion in 'Using Pantaloons To Create an Emergency Floating Aid Should You Find Yourself Stranded in Rough Waters.' Therefore, when I met them for dinner that evening, I was able to report that during the day I had:
- used a voucher to acquire a free tomato plant from the local garden centre. It is a rather small tomato plant (as freebies tend to be) but it shall be nurtured in the organic way and will no doubt produce a crop of delicious tomatoes. Whilst at the garden centre I stayed for lunch of green vegetable soup and cheese scone. I shall not be making a habit of profligate lunching because I have (unnecessary) issues about no longer contributing to the finances of the home, but I fancied to enjoy the relative emptiness of the cafe and have a relaxing lunch 'n' read hour. I did not stay as long as I had anticipated because despite the aforesaid relative emptiness of the aforesaid (and large) cafe, it wasn't long before a man and woman appeared with their lunches and sat at the table RIGHT NEXT TO MINE. It was like parking next to the only car in an otherwise empty car park, a habit I deem unnecessary and irritating in the extreme. As I left, I tried not to hope they would choke on their paninis and coleslaw.
- purchased two tickets to see the comedian Hal Cruttenden at the local and admirable Festival Centre on Saturday 23rd November. I tried hard not to think that there will likely be Christmas decorations all over the town by then. The show was around three quarters booked up already but I managed to secure two seats on the aisle (Andy likes an aisle seat). The only problem with aisle seats is that once you are settled, you inevitably spend time standing up and down to allow people to access their middle-of-the-row seats. The Law of Sod states that people with middle row seats always arrive later than people with aisle seats. Still, it's a work-out for the hips and thighs. And Hal Cruttenden is HILARIOUS!
- visited the local library and took out a book on how to create vintage-style memory books. There was some brief confusion at the library desk when my card was scanned and screamed, 'WHO ARE YOU??' because I hadn't used it in such a long time, but a brief flash of my driving licence and an update of email address soon sorted that and I am now at one with the library once more. There were two school aged children in the library. I wanted to say, 'Why aren't you at SCHOOL?' But I didn't because a) it was none of my business and b) it was none of my business. Besides, there was still a little voice in my head saying, 'Why aren't YOU at WORK?' I ignored it and it went away.
- made a chicken and leek pie for Lord Malarkey's dinner. He had left early to make a pre-work visit the gym (he has recently joined a gym and now feels obliged to use it, you know, so that by the end of the membership year his average cost of visit won't be something ridiculous like £37.75). He then worked all day, only to 'phone at 6.05 p.m to say he would be very late because a Caesarean op had just arrived for him to do. He arrived home at 7.30 p.m, and anyone who puts in such a long day deserves a chicken and leek pie handcrafted by his vegetarian wife.
- started research for an idea for a novel I've had. I have never attempted a research-driven novel before. People who are familiar with my writing and have read my previous novels will know that my basic mode of working is based on the process of Organised Chaos i.e I sit and write whatever comes to my head and if it's writing for the annual Christmas story or NaNoWriMo, there is the added motivator of panic and stress in order to work to a deadline. However, I think (rightly or wrongly) that 'worthy' literature needs greater application, and I have recently been absorbed by the life of Victorian artist Richard Dadd. I have long been fascinated by his painting, 'The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke,' a print of which I have framed and hanging on the living room wall. A writer's epiphany occurred about connecting the painting with a story. It was an epiphany which had me leaping from bed this morning eager to get on with being a Writer!
- completed some sewing. Mini cross stitch pictures to be exact. They are of a fox, a rabbit and a hedgehog. They are destined to hang in the guest bedroom which in my mind has been theme-named, 'The Countryside Room.' Completing these pictures has made me realise that although it is nice to work to pre-made sewing patterns, it is time I worked towards creating my own. I have an urge to design something unique to me, maybe that I can go on to sell. Just a thought.
Today is the last official day of my current workplace contract. Soon I shall cease to be what once I was. Such a relief. Such excitement and anticipation about where life will take me next. And after yesterday I shall probably wonder how on earth I once had time to fit full-time paid employment into my life.
Comments