Trying.

Had a little trip out to the city today, delivering up Monsieur Renault to Nigel’s tender mercies in the hope of getting the windscreen wipers to do what they’re supposed to do. I didn’t get offered the little red sports car to come home in this time – had to make do with Nigel’s van instead. I’m not complaining, though; Frothy 2 is a characterful little chap, with his deely-bopper radio aerial and the flashing yellow lights mounted on the roof. I wondered whether I might turn them on when I go shopping tomorrow, but I’d probably get arrested for disturbing the peace, or the cows, or the farmers, or something.

I spent some money while I was over there, mostly on stuff to tart up my office now that I’m redecorating it, although I also bought a new toothbrush. That was pretty exciting because it was an expensive one on special offer. It occurred to me that it will give me something to say to the dentist’s nurse the next time I go. ‘Do you know what I bought recently? A new toothbrush!’ And she can give me a withering look, which is better than no look at all, I suppose. Is it? I don’t know. I’m fed up.

It was warmer there than it is here in the countryside, and a very pretty girl smiled at me in the pasty shop – three times. Haven’t a clue why. Was I supposed to smile back? And I got free coffee as usual, courtesy of my old friend Mr R.

You can’t say my blog posts haven’t got some zip in them these days, can you?