First things first – Mike the Gnome provided carpet – as it turns out rather too much carpet but who cares? I have spent the weekend caressing the aforementioned carpet, walking barefoot across the landing and inhaling that wonderful new carpet smell. Upstairs we’re rapidly approaching home. By the end of the week housework, upstairs at least, will involve a vacuum cleaner and a duster rather than crowbar/plasterer’s trowel/paintbrush.
There is, however, the small matter of the wardrobe. Its been sitting quietly in the living room in many bits over the last several months. I have occasionally stubbed my toe on the door frame and once the whole lot threatened to topple over. What I’d failed to take account of was the fact that when it was dismantled I’d placed all the screws in a plastic bag which I duly marked as ‘wardrobe’ and then placed the aforementioned bag in a large plastic lunchbox along with all the other fixings for everything that was dismantled to facilitate the move-it was transported along with the valuables and the important papers on account of the fact it is a very important little lunchbox – which er, well, I seem to have put in a safe place. Consequently all the bits of the wardrobe are now upstairs awaiting the discovery of the lunchbox – it’s only a small cottage it can’t be far away.
Having said that I’d like you to envisage a slender package with a tape or ripcord attached, now imagine pulling that tape…and hey presto up springs an inflatable life boat. That dear reader is the metaphorical equivalent of me opening my neatly piled boxes. I seem to have suddenly got a lot more stuff on the opening of the boxes – everything has expanded exponentially apart from the cottage.
Now all I need to do is put it away, clear the living-room and decorate it…simples.
The real problem on my horizon this week is King John. I know. He’s been dead for eight hundred years. No my problem is that I thought I was delivering a session on King John to seventeen people – which I did think was slightly odd but thought that there was a limit on the numbers or that fewer people were interested in that particular Plantagenet than I had first thought. This morning the seventeen turned into twenty-eight as though by magic with the delivery of a slender envelope. Clearly someone at my place of employment pulled the ripcord on a small package and it expanded exponentially. On one hand I’m really pleased. I’m looking forward to King John – his childhood, of which we know relatively little, is interesting as are his Lackland years. His conniving is legendary. His women are fascinating and so are the slightly larger than life barons who lurk around corners. Then there’s the fact that John was actually administratively rather an astute chap and the first king to pay close attention to England. He snatched defeat from the jaws of victory on more than one occasion; lost his crown jewels and murdered/starved to death/had the hands and feet hacked off many of his subjects – what’s not to enjoy teaching? And there’s all my lovely students -all of the names on my new list look familiar and I shall be delighted to see all twenty-eight of them.
The problem, dear reader, is that I’d carefully arranged to have all the materials I needed printed several weeks ago- twenty copies of everything so that I would have three spare ‘just in case’. I’m now eight copies of everything short – which I can remedy once I unpack the printer and locate some paper. More problematic is the fact that I need a second register and eleven more copies of all the official documentation that the aforementioned employer becomes really stroppy about if I don’t fill in…shame that someone didn’t think of that when they merrily sent me ten of the eleven additional enrolment forms (and that’s a whole different can of worms) but there again that would have involved thought which is clearly something that wasn’t an essential on the job criteria – especially as the hapless tutor (me) will get the blame. Still – at least I know now that I need to do something pronto rather than experiencing a horrible dawning sensation as the classroom fills on Thursday. I shall be sending a polite but forcefully worded email to someone just as soon as I’ve clicked on the ‘publish’ button for this post…