Wednesday I wake to another day when I have to get up to be bright and shiny for a visiting artisan. I get up and dress, eat toast and down my morning meds. I amuse myself while waiting for the artisan to turn up by going through the bumper edition of the Radio Times marking what I want to watch with a Sharpie. I note that I am not the first person to have done this and make my choices diplomatically knowing that i-player will rescue me. Of course there are favourites like the Royal Institutes Christmas lectures for children, which this year are about AI. There is always one of my all time favourite films on and this year does not disappoint as I find that In the Heat of the Night is being screen, as is Casablanca and The African Queen. I do not finish this activity before the artisan arrives. I welcome him in and make him proper coffee. I like him straight away as he takes his coffee as I do, black and no additions.

We get started on the conversation of what we want done. As we chat my partner joins us and we gradually expand our ideas and explore more possibilities. Our drive is too narrow and bump and in our discussions our artisan suggest a rather neat solution. A single metre shaved off the edge of the front garden would enable a stately gateway and sweep to the house. We are happy that any of the tree and shrub clearing work would be done in co-operation with the team that do our trees, it seems a too good to miss opportunity. Once we have talked through our wish list I take him into the garden to look at the current patio and other features that we wish to remodel. He gets it all and ask questions about our neighbours and the possible use of their garage to anchor one feature to. I promise to talk to them and see if they are content with this. I leave him alone for twenty minutes to measure up and make sketches. He mutters to himself as he calculates square meterage. Finally with his numbers and drawings he comes back inside for some final clarifications and questions. Of course I ask for a ball park figure, he looks at me, mutters to himself again as he adds up more square meterage and calculates days, looks up and gives us prices for the individual bits of the scheme. I think this is known as trying to “soften the blow”, but I’m good at in the head sums too and and bounce back a ball park total. He comes back with a “within the range of, depending on” response. My partner and I look at each other, and I swear we both had the same though namely ” thought it would be more”, but neither of us smiles, I just say “that’s doable”. He says these are big jobs so the two major ones are likely to take two weeks each so providing we go ahead April will be the month of the build. He leaves saying that he will go away and work on the quote and some sketches, which we will get after Christmas.

After his going my partner and I have the “I thought it would be more” conversation and then go into “we will wait and see” mode. Lunch follows, during which we draw up the Christmas meal timetable and sort out what else needs to be brought. Once I had sent it to my youngest daughter pinned it to the fridge I was ready for the afternoon. In an characteristic flash of sociability I go round to the neighbours to ask about bolting things to their garage wall. I get invited in and discover a very Christmassy household and jigsaws. As we chat I discover that jigsaws, watercolours and guitar playing are things that golfers do when their golf course is closed due to inclement weather. I spend quite a while chatting and explain the work we are planning. To my relief they have no problem with the proposed gateway as it enhances security of their property as well, so everyone is a winner in this.

I return home to a querulous partner who wondered where I was. After sharing my conversation I emailed the artisan with the news about pining stuff to the garage wall. adn then settled down to rest. It had cost me a lot of spoons, al this social stuff. Tired and wishing to rest I sit on my end of the sofa and watch the conclusion of a snooker match in Germany. It was surreal, no commentary, no crowd, not much of anything, it was like being at the event as the only person in the auditorium. It is amazing just how shit some professional snooker players are. I’m so used to watching the worlds best that I have clearly forgotten that there is a reason why they are the best and they get win things. They can pot the balls, build big breaks and play excellent safety shots. The pair I watch missed their pots, scored lowly and had no idea about safety. In fact one of them bounced the cue ball and a red off the table, I’ve not seen that since being in a youth club! My word they were shit and the game was tedious. Eventually one of them won the frame and the match to absolute silence. No one spoke to each other, they packed their cues away in silence and then just pissed off. A really bizarre experience.

My evening was a combination of food, football and TV until it came to the late film of the evening, the last of the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise. As ever my timing is out as the film ends late and there is still the kitchen to clear and Daisy dishwasher to set to work. It gets done, I take my night meds and go to bed.

Thursday and I am slow to rise this morning after my late night and feel that today is a low spoon day. My partner brings me a coffee and do my usual check on messages and other cyber litter. Up and dress I wander into the kitchen to fix breakfast and I am confronted by the ton felt on the Shed. It is literally bowing a gale and it has ripped one length of felting off my beloved Shed. There is no question of me getting out there and doing repairs in these weather conditions, I just have to wait it out, it turns out windy and damp all day.

My day is listless, I am not sure what I want to do or whether I feel like doing anything and as I result I drift. I do the odd chore, open a couple of Christmas cards and read the Radio Times. By the time I’ve had lunch I am no better so I take my vitals and have a nap with Alexa playing me mediation sounds, rather nice, but I feel I should be a ball of pre Christmas activity. My response is to do a secondary wave of Christmas internet shopping, small, hopefully fun things and one thing I hope no body has bought me for myself. I start to draft the blog, wondering why I am still doing this but I know the reason why, I just have moments of self doubt occasionally. As I catch up on he drafting a friend rings, a very pleasant surprise as we have not spoken in a while. We of course talk about family preparations for Christmas and how things are going generally. The conversation is punctuated by my friend popping into the post office and then a shop to get a Christmas cake, so our conversation comes in a trilogy. I like that, it feels like I am out and about by proxy, I know full well that over next seventy four hours I am going to out and about myself shopping and visiting so its nice to join in with someone else doing it. We conclude our conversation and I return to writing the blog. I have a headache and resort to paracetamol before my evening begins. I’ve heard nothing from the book team to date and they are closing for Christmas tonight until the new year so I guess I need to be patient till 2024 before finishing the process and hopefully seeing my modest poetry collection published on Amazon.

The evening is upon me, there is festive TV and back series on i-player to watch. Christmas Roland will thank today Roland if he gets his arse in bed early tonight, which I think has to be the aim for today. As I go to bed I find my temporary tooth filling has come out, so tomorrow I need to try to get an emergency appointment with my dentist, I am not optimistic. It appears there is to be no let up in the seasonal aggravation and perturbations.