Do you ever find yourself with what might be called "An Unexpected Day." And, if so, what do you generally do with it?
Today, for me, was just one such day. We were meant
to be joining our Merry Band of Questers (a group which, regular readers will recall, enjoys behind the scenes visits to places of interest) on a trip to Gorringes the auctioneers in Lewes. We had been looking forward to it for ages.
Mr B has for quite some time been addicted to antiques programmes on TV. I can tell because he often manages to name the designer / manufacturer / pot-maker even before the TV presenter makes his / her official pronouncement. Under
his tutelage (that is, Mr B's not a TV presenter's) I, too, now recognise Clarice Cliff - but then, doesn't everyone?
A behind the scenes visit to an auctioneer promised much to feed Mr B's Obsession with
the Gavel. Months ago, when the visit was first mooted, I had made checks, dutiful wife and sometime chauffeur that I am, on disabled parking arrangements and been helpfully assured that we and our Blue Badge would be accommodated. It would mean an early-ish
start (in our terms, that is, you would probably consider it a late-ish start) but, given so much advance warning, it should be more than possible.
Four days ago, Mr B awoke with an agonising pain in his elbow.
Now that's a new malady to us, so I checked it out with Dr Google. The eminent physician told me it was likely the result of strenuous exercise. This is probably the most unlikely of diagnoses possible, given that poor Mr B finds it difficult to walk down
the garden path these days. Another on-line expert suggested a cold compress made from wrapping a pack of frozen peas in a tea-towel might provide blessed relief. Mr B said if he wanted such treatment, then he would request the services of a proper nurse.
I went off to nurse (!) my sense of grievance and to make us both a cup of coffee, which is my standard treatment for all ailments, physical or mental. You won't find this remedy on Dr Google's prescription pad but it always works for me.
Several sleepless nights later, Mr B admits defeat and asks me to cancel our trip. With a heavy heart - because I know he would have enjoyed the outing - I do his bidding.
is how I came to have an unexpectedly free day today. What should I do with it? I asked myself as I rolled out of bed this morning. How should I make best use of the Unexpected Hours?
I used to love Unexpected
Days when I was a Working Gal, all those (well, three and a half) years ago. A snowy day leading to the cancellation of a meeting in the north of the county, or sudden illness rendering a get-together impossible. In those days, however, I had a long list of
Tasks To Be Completed This Week Or Possibly Next so an Unexpected Day meant an opportunity to write a report, draft letters or wander around the offices saying "Hello!" to people who might have forgotten what I looked like, in all my busyness.
I am quite sure there are all kinds of things I should be doing, to take advantage of my suddenly spare time. I could, of course, 'phone a friend and meet up for coffee - but it didn't seem quite fair to leave Mr B Home Alone
and Disappointed while I salvaged some kind of an outing for myself.
Mr B asks why couldn't I "just be"? We could sit in companionable togetherness and watch the next instalment of "Blue Bloods" on TV (Mr
B knows how much I love Tom Selleck.) We could watch the racing at Cheltenham and see which one of us would predict the most winners. We could....
At this point Mr B runs out of suggestions so I do what I
always do in such circumstances.
A bit of this and a bit of that...