Right. Come in. Sit down. Thought you might need a bit of a break from me and Big Tone resolving our differences over homosexuality. I know most people resolve their differences over a beer but what can you do? See previous post if you don't know what I'm on about but I warn you - it's a long one. The post that is. Your mind. Wash it now.
I have discovered a few interesting things over the last few weeks. One of them is that I get on with my work at home more effectively when there are people working in the other room. It seems easier not to be distracted by a Killer-sudoku online or Facebook when two plumbers are discussing your water pressure in the kitchen next door to the study. Thanks Ben and Dan. Your company for the last, gosh has it been, four weeks has been a joy. They even know where the tea is kept and make their own now.
So when Trinity House is open for business it will include an area where those of us who normally work at home can work communally and I think I will pick some time each week when I can be found there.
Back to builders a moment though. Is it something in the genes that means that if there are twenty tasks to do in someone's house they start all of them then finish in the apparently random order 3, 14, 15, 2, 8 ...? I know things have to dry and it's bad being outside in the wet but this doesn't explain all their decision making. Today they are laying slabs and possibly vinyl. When I get back from the gym I hope I don't find a slabbed bathroom. And vinyl may be the only thing in the world slipperier than the decking they've taken up.
Still, my new garden wall is. Very still. Not leaning at all. Holding back the hill better than the previous one. That lawn is going nowhere now. I reckon I could defend myself against the Visigoths from behind that wall. I know that's no way to talk about Cleeve Place. Then again.
Now to the embarrassing news. The cleaners found an ear-ring. Female's, clipped not studded, with a single clear stone probably-not-a-diamond but what do I know? Not Mrs WWA's though. I fessed up straight away. If you have jettisoned an ear-ring at Vynes Mansions during the last couple of weeks please produce the matching one as evidence and if you fit the unlikely description of being fitter than Mrs WWA please swear on your mother's honour that we weren't up to anything.
Took the bed apart to fit the new carpet in the bedroom. Re-assembled bed squeaks. Pah!
Mustard Seed Shavings sold 19 copies in the period July-December 2011. I suspect my publishers are disappointed about that. Certainly the Trinity Project, who get the royalties, will be. Despite being told I can write a bit by most people who ever read my guff I've never been able to sell books. I stand by it as a useful work to give at confirmation though, or for new Christians and enquirers.
Now I'm off to escape the sound of ground being prepared for slabs. Laters.