The postman rang the doorbell at 11.40 a.m. this morning and totally buggered up my day. In a sort of good / bad way.
I had about seventeen jobs to do – partly helping to get Partner-who-loves-tea ready for her students ‘residential’. Each group of students on her Certificate and Diploma level courses attends a residential weekend which requires an enormous amount of work in advance – most of which is never seen or appreciated by the students themselves.
She and Colleague-who-is-generous are taking the Diploma group away to Foxhills – a marvellous old mansion near Cheshire’s Sandstone Trail - this weekend and we were putting the finishing touches to the dozen or so boxes of ‘stuff’ she will be taking on Friday.
But, to get back to the postman. What did he do that was so devastating? He brought a new Terry Pratchett.
Terry has just published ‘The Long Earth’ in association with Stephen Baxter. I can’t resist opening a new book at the best of times but when it’s a Terry Pratchett I have to sit down for at least an hour and get into it. I did that, totally ignoring everything around me. I wonder when was the last time I didn’t finish a Terry Pratchett book on the day I got it?
Only a supreme sense of responsibility and discipline got me out of the chair and back to work, leaving Terry to have his cup if tea.
So I’m looking for a pat on the back. Only one more residential-related job to do until Partner gets back from work at about eight o’clock. Then there are some jobs we need to do together. In the meantime, once that one job is done, I can get back to ‘The Long Earth’. Any other jobs can go hang for those three hours. I’m not even going to get myself something to eat – Son-who-watches-films has offered to do that for me…
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