Fuzzy

I had a lovely lie-in again this morning. I’m still a bit fuzzy-headed and washed-out, but am slightly better than I was yesterday. I think recovery is going to be a rather long journey this time round, however.

Our bedroom is an absolute tip. There are piles and piles of things heaped on every inch of the carpet. I started to move boxes and suitcases around and found loads of things from our wedding; cards, old button holes, loose bow ties, bits of music, one or two of the more perplexing presents we received, photographs, heaps and heaps of paper work. Just looking at it broke me out in a sweat. It’s almost impossible to know what to do with it. So many people gave us presents which need to be hung on the walls in some way, but there is literally no wall-space in a house which is already filled with my photographs. Then, of course, I found loads of birthday cards, and the silly jokey made-in-China presents that people get for you on these kinds of occasions. They’re great fun for the day of the party: you wear with them, or play with them, or laugh at them... but then what? Where do they all go - except in terrible piles on the bedroom floor?

I threw away two bin bags full of stuff and then stalled and went into town to meet Nathan for a late lunch. On the tube on the way in, a woman sneezed and said “bless me” which I thought was a little eccentric, don’t most people say “excuse me?”I have never really understood the whole shouting “bless you” at strangers when they sneeze. It’s an odd compulsion, and quite intrusive. Surely most people would rather not have their sneezes publicised to the world?

On the way home, I collected our car from Highgate Autos. It’s the first time we’ve used these fellas, and I was hugely impressed by them. Not only did they do us a brilliant deal on the large amount of work we needed doing, but they were friendly and charming. It makes such a difference. They’re situated in a little mews development behind the High Street, which ought to make them the most expensive garage in the world, but they’re really not. I was also thrilled to hear that there’s been a garage on that particular site since 1910, which, I guess is pretty much since the first cars entered London. I love those little pieces of modern history.

I came home, and have started watching the athletics. I’ve no idea which athletics I’m seeing, but I’m thrilled to note that one of the 5000m runners is called Gaylen Rupp! Apparently he’s Mo Farrah’s running partner. As Nathan rightly points out, “of course he’s a fast runner; he needed to run away from all the kids who beat him up at school because of his silly name!”