5April1996

My dear folks,

It’s been the loveliest kind of day. The sun rose into the sky this a.m. & stayed there throughout the day, a rare & welcome event. To celebrate the occasion, I have opened the patio door & my first bottle of white wine of the season, a delicious Semillon Chardonay. But I run ahead of myself. Let me start at the beginning. My day opened with an unwelcome pre-dawn visit from his nibs who hopped up on to the bed & began purring loudly as is his wont. In self defence I turned on the breakfast current affairs radio programme for a while & then came down early to read the dawn fax Mum sent through & write a few lines of my own.

Most of the day has been devoted to nitty gritties, both at home & at “my” flats. The hoarfrost on the car-roofs was gone by mid-morning when the doorbell rang. The ringer was Roy, the fixer I have just engaged to oversee flat maintenance. With any luck he’s going to simplify my life. With him was his plumber.

We walked around to a flat where a boiler needed attention. Roy & I discussed an “arrangement” in-between the calls he was taking on his mobile phone. He was clearly in demand. Roy has a big tummy & the air of one experienced in the ways of the world. While the plumber serviced the boiler, I tried - & failed - to repair an exterior light attached to the wall, high above the door. It required would-be repairers to cling to the top of a step-ladder. The screws holding the cover were rusted & mocked my attempts either to extract them or drill them out. Eventually I resorted to brute force, splintering the cover & shattering the innards. The light would shine no more! I made a date with Roy to bring his electrician around next week.

The plumber came back to my flat where he serviced the boiler & then tried to coax the patio tap back into life. It’s one we put in several years ago to avoid the hassle of carting watering cans up & down the stairs. And a great boon it’s been, enabling us to water the patio plants at the effortless end of a hosepipe. At the start of winter, we open an exterior tap & then turn off an interior one to prevent water freezing in the pipe. Six months later we reverse the process. Only this year, the water didn’t flow.

The plumber tried to coax the interior tap into life, then pronounced it moribund & advised me to replace it. I did - after a trot up the hardware store - but the drought continued. So I attacked the exterior brass tap on the patio instead, nearly destroying a finger in the process. The tap was full of bits of plastic & springs which I ripped out & threw away. I replaced the tap & it worked. God alone knows what the innards were intended to achieve but it wasn’t the flow of water. I gave my new pot plants a celebratory dousing. They’re a rainbow of comfort in their troughs. I love them.

Are you impressed? That’s barely half of my virtue. I have drilled & painted & hoovered & washed the washing & sent brochures to Quinta clients. I have selected a whole new set of numbers for the lottery. I have fed fatty & am about to feed the basement feline as well on behalf of Stef & Herman who have escaped for the Easter weekend. They are not alone. Every Brit who can leave this island this weekend is fleeing or has fled. The TV screens are full of cluttered airports & fettered freeways. Those who afford it are going abroad, sardined into aircraft cabins. Those who can’t are crawling in their cars towards the nation’s resorts. I give thanks for the grace of being able to work while others relax & to relax while they work. Love you lots and am thinking of all of you this Easter. I probably shall not write a lot as I shall be spending most if it working & sleeping. XXXXXXX T