Anther wet Monday morning, so I get up early and watch a women’s world cup match and stare idly into the distance. My eldest daughter is also up and kindly brings me buttered toast. The game is average and I begin to wonder whether to go to the The Consortium of Therapeutic Communities conference in Birmingham in September. This is prompted by an email asking for papers. I’m toying with a paper relating to talking to chairs and consciousness. I share this thought with my partner whose response was “why would you, you always leave it to the last minute, do you need the stress?” She is right and there is the drive to Birmingham to be considered, particularly crap in wet weather. There is a ghost of days past, of person past that romantically thinks it might be fun and provide stimulation but realistically I doubt I have a contribution to make any more to this group or the work they are doing. There would be nothing worse than being the old bloke whose lost it at a conference.

There is another match to watch, which I do, which takes me to the end of the morning and a ham sandwich. I go to the Shed, my refuge and write letters. My partner visits to ask about something and then I notice that the lead art work that I had put on the window sill has gone to ground taking a rotten window sill with it. This is a major issue my sanctuary is inured and I need to repair it as soon as possible. So I set aside the letter I am writing and gather up tools, wood, filler, saw, measuring instruments and the rest of the paraphernalia that experience has taught me you need to make quick running repairs. The window is not in good shape.

So I set to and put in new wood under the sill inside and build a new frame outside to be sealed. Its a pig of a job as I am working in a confined space inside and outside the bloody pampas grass saws away at my arms. There is measuring and sawing and then drilling and screwing to be done to fit a structure.

There is a lot of packing of gaps and sealing done. Fortunately I’m the type of man who learnt how to make and mend which means I have a garage full of tools, materials and “just in case” odds and ends, which includes external filler. I fill and make water tight the new frame and then I rummage through another shed to find shed and fence paint to give the new wood a couple of coats. Its all done in a rush and I heave things like the exercise bike around. I get the paint job done and then I tidy everything away. Its taken two hours of rush and dash but I can do no more than hope for dry weather. Its a feint hope but one can only hope, controlling the weather is beyond me.

I put the tools away and know that both tea and the Tesco delivery is on the horizon. So I am just congratulating myself on my Shed rescue job when I go for a piss and find I am passing blood. That just about put the tin hat on the day. I eat tea, take in the Tesco order and then tax my car. I have not had a reminder, neither has my partner, so I check on the DVLA website and sure enough my tax is due tomorrow, so its time to play hunt the log book and reference number so that I can renew it. It goes okay and I will wake up tomorrow a legal driver. It was just another pain in the arse thing to sort in this day. I draft the blog, take my drugs and go to bed early. England pay tomorrow at the world cup so there is something to look forward to along with posting my letters.