Following on from yesterday's National Insurance sad person's issues, I must say that when Lord H came home last night after work, I told him the story of my conversation with the Tax Office, and he at once came out with the correct version of not only his own National Insurance number, but mine also. Yes, folks, we are indeed the perfect example of sad Mr Accountant and His Wife. We really ought to get out more ...
And as usual the Church Times arrived with yesterday's post. The top story on Page Two was of a man who has spent three years building a four foot high replica of St Paul's Cathedral. In a fruitcake. With icing. After Lord H and I had finished shrieking with laughter and rolling about on the floor clutching our stomachs, we had to agree the following: (a) it's nice to know that some people are even sadder than ourselves; (b) it may indeed be a cunning plan actually to replace St Paul's with a fruitcake replica, life-size, at some stage, and this is only the working model. This, to my mind, could only be a good thing - as every time in my life I've visited St Paul's I've always been told either to stop talking or to leave. They are not the friendly face of the Church. A fruitcake version may be more socially useful; (c) there is at last proof that the Church does provide an important function towards society, as it's obviously where they put the mad folk. At least the streets of the UK are safe on Sunday mornings.
Oh, and I forgot to say that I finally got round to visiting poor Gladys yesterday. Post the storm, she was very shaky indeed. We spent some time having the same conversation about Christmas that we had before - but, as Lord H says, at least she does know Christmas has happened, which can only be a good thing. And she seemed more deaf than usual, so I was in full shouting mode to ensure she heard me. Unfortunately, the thing with shouting is you grow quickly used to it, so when Gladys' fully hearing neighbour came round to tell us something domestic about the garage, I found I was shouting at her too, and couldn't seem to switch into normal voice levels at all. Still, I suspect the neighbour must be used to this, but she did step back a few paces with the shock to start with; I don't have a quiet voice in the best of circumstances. Ah well.
This morning, I've been reading through my Coping with Change course notes, and embedding some of that very useful stuff in. Or trying to. I've also jotted down a useful reading list for future reference, although already Lord H has nipped out in full marital support mode and bought one of them for me - Susan Jeffers' "Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway". What a sweetie he is. And, much to my delight, it seems that one of my poems, "Sundays", has been accepted by the Ver Poets short poetry anthology, which should be out during February, so that's something to look forward to. I've also entered for a couple more poetry competitions today in my usual monthly routine. Which makes me feel that I've achieved something useful in the writing world, even though I haven't actually done any writing.
Had an utterly delicious nap this afternoon - well, submitting stuff to competitions is sooooo exhausting, m'dears ... And tonight Lord H is taking me out for an airing - we've having a meal at one of our local pubs, The Seahorse in Bramley. This is truly exciting as we'll be able to find out if they are likely to have fishcakes (one of Lord H's favourites) on the menu this year - each time we go, they're always "off". Perhaps 2007 will be their year? You never know ...
Today's nice things:
1. Getting a poem in the Ver Poets anthology
2. Thinking through my course notes
3. Dinner out with Lord H.