28November1995

London: 28th November 1995
My dear folks,

Let me begin by saying thank you to Annie for her update on affairs Calgarian. Mum, I do hope your mind & body are more are rest & that you are soon able to take an interest in books once again. Of course, I’d like to interest you in computers & much else besides. But I’m being realistic. One thing at a time. I’m delighted that your daughter is there with you, as you are no doubt yourself, and she for that matter too. Keep up the good work.

Jones & I had an “off-day”, today, a fairly busy one as it happens. The Beeb had tried to inveigle me into working an extra day as ranks have been depleted by flu. But I backed out with a thanks but no thanks. We had resolved to finish working on a flat which Jones has been degriming for the past 3 days. The previous tenant had left it incredibly filthy before doing a bunk & losing his deposit. We meant to start at 0700 but when the alarm went off, we compromised on 0800. My best sleep of the night comes around dawn!

First leg was to the laundry to pick up the curtains. No joy! They’d been sent out by mistake. So we asked the laundryman to get them back & let us know soonest. On to the flat where Jones returned to her scrubbing campaign in the kitchen while I patched up tiles & drawers, disposed of old furniture & arranged for the installation of new locks. A mid-morning message on the answer-phone said the laundry had recovered the curtains. We collected them. By lunchtime, the pair of us were pooped. I settled down on the couch for a snooze. Mavis warmed himself under his sunlamp. He had a particularly exhausting night on the tiles earlier this week & has been recovering ever since.

This afternoon, the Chancellor has been delivering his budget. Could have been worse. Probably would have been if the government wasn’t facing an election in which only a give-away budget has any hope of saving it from defeat. Mavis & I listened to his speech for an hour. Then the lady who owns several of “my” flats dropped in to compare notes. She commutes every few weeks between Johburg and Monte Carlo & has a couple of hours to kill in London between flights, a good time for a review. In spite of the fact that I have been spending a lot of her money, all went well. I guess that’s because she knows that “real” agents would spend even more of her money for fewer returns. They charge a fortune to manage flats - as I’ve discovered - and do very little for it. Maybe I should become a real agent & do the same.

This evening, I’m going around to the flat concerned to sign the lease with the new tenant. Then I’m going to have supper & finish the bottle of claret I began at lunch. What I meant to do - and didn’t - was fetch my bike from the Beeb. I got a puncture on the way to work yesterday & had to walk the last mile in the rain. I wasn’t pleased. I walked home again afterwards, stealing half a mile on a passing bus. So you can get a rough idea of our lives. Horribly domestic! But I don’t know what to do about it. Maybe I’ll put an ad in the paper saying I’m available to sit on the boards of any companies that are short of directors. Man of wide experience! Should be invaluable. Can’t do any harm.