Came down to find the house painted a strange flesh-pink. Not at all what I was after but perhaps the second coat will do what I was aiming for – plaster. Painting was rained off, and I spent the day working while my gutterless roof dripped. Been lucky with the weather so far, but this weekend is likely to be wet, so I hope there’s no damage resulting from not having the gutters up. Andy’s certainly thorough, no one who’s painted my house before ever took the gutters off.
The garden’s looking lovely – lots of narcissi and a few tulips and those things I want to call parsnips all the time – primulas – everywhere. I now know why I keep getting the name wrong because cowslips are in the same family of primulae. It comes from the Latin Primus, meaning first. The first flowers of the spring. I suppose the real first flowers – snowdrops – are winter flowers. Also i discovered that there is still life in the pond after the winter’s deaths. Not quite sure whether I was looking at a newt or a very large tadpole, I think the latter, but I was very happy to see that something has survived, or returned.
Went to pick up the new car. By this time I’d decided that I really didn’t want it and was feeling very sad about the poor little A-Class. As if to vindicate my feelings, I was about two thirds of the way home when a woman driving an MG Midget sports car crashed right into me on a bend. Her brakes didn’t seem to work at all and she just slid into me after I’d come to a halt. There would have been room to pass too, if she’d slowed down. I’d probably had the new car 10 minutes and I’d only driven four and a half miles! Luckily mine was driveable as I was really worried about having two cars (!) and not being able to drive either one and ruining my weekend. This feels like a really bad omen but I have to not think like that. But I feel I’m slightly in “serves you right” territory. I’m never going to be able to get used to being able to do these things.
Stashed the A-Class in the garage, after loading up all the kindling and trundling it down to the woodshed. Then I went to Nether Stowey, driving very, very tentatively, where there was a May Fair. No maypole, but morris dancers, street traders, folk singers and, because the village has a stream running down a deep open gully at the side of the high street, a duck derby, with children racing numbered yellow rubber ducks. I bought two paintings at the exhibition in the church – I hope they are better decisions than the colour of the house and the ruddy car. I’ll see on Monday afternoon when I pick them up.
J left a message to say that her stepfather died yesterday. Very sad. Puts things into perspective.