5th June 2011

I took Nan home to Thurcroft on Sunday night, ending a visit that had been dominated by a relentless, icy wind, the sort that makes you wonder if you’ve accidentally moved to the North Sea coast. It had blown in the day she arrived and only gave up once I’d returned her home. I’m not suggesting she caused it, but it did rather curtail any adventures on her ‘bat-mobile’ and left her resorting to whatever reading material she could find. After staying the night, I left early the next morning to meet the Rugby Club’s new website coordinator.

On the way back, I met Sue at Fosse Park, where, in a fine drizzle, we trudged through furniture shops in search of a new three-piece suite. Sadly, our tastes aligned about as well as oil and water. We abandoned Leicester for Harborough, tried a new store, and still left empty-handed.

That evening, I ventured into one of Harborough’s sprawling new housing estates for my meeting. I suspected the chap I was meeting, known for his ‘relaxed’ approach to life, might forget, and he did. After an awkward doorstep chat, we rescheduled for Wednesday.

Tuesday brought the long-awaited replacement of Jamie’s overzealous fire alarm. The engineer tested it thoroughly, and we all crossed our fingers that it wouldn’t start screaming over a hot shower again. Meanwhile, Sue, Sarah, Charlotte, and the children took a sunny stroll around Foxton Locks, spotting newly hatched cygnets among a crowd of boaters and tourists.

It was half-term, which meant Sarah spent much of the week revising for her exams.

Wednesday saw Sue and Charlotte resume the Great Suite Search, but they returned empty-handed once again.

Thursday began with me planting butter beans at the allotment before heading to the rugby club to discuss sponsorship with a Greene King rep. Ironically, while I was away, Sue ordered a suite from the first shop we’d visited on Monday, the one I’d liked and she hadn’t. Time softens the heart… or at least the upholstery standards.

Friday, Sue whisked Charlotte and the grandchildren to Hammerton Zoo for the day. I stayed home to receive the new suite and later headed to the hospital for yet another inconclusive scan. The old suite was dumped unceremoniously on the patio,  no doubt destined for a costly council collection. That evening was Family Curry Night, though Suraj was stuck at work installing a new server, and Sarah caught a train to Lee’s for a Hen Night.

Saturday afternoon found me at the rugby club, beer in hand, watching Saxons v USA, when Sue texted to say Jamie’s car was on fire. Seconds later, Jamie rang asking for a tow. Before agreeing to drag a blazing vehicle behind my own, I checked the facts:

It turned out that as he’d parked in his spot at the flats, the lockable floor post had sprung up and neatly destroyed the oil coolant radiator he’d only just fitted. The dramatic ‘smoke’ was oil hitting the hot manifold. Having already had a few beers, I told him to leave it and we’d sort it on Sunday. Naturally, when I got home, there it was on the driveway, he’d persuaded a mate to tow it instead.

While I’d been at the club, Sue had decided her computer chair had ‘had it’. She visited the new store in town, bought one, and had it proudly waiting in the lounge by the time I got back. I think I should stay home much more; it certainly would be cheaper.

Sunday morning began with me clearing the large puddle of oil still lurking in the garage pit from Jamie’s last car service. He arrived at 11 am, and by noon the radiator was fixed. We drove to Halfords for oil, collected Harley, and they both stayed for Sunday lunch. Not long after they left, Sarah returned from Nottingham looking pale and exhausted, which I took as confirmation of a successful Hen Night. I spent the afternoon painting the fence and quietly contemplating how blissfully calm life was before children arrived to keep it ‘interesting’.