8March1996

My dear folks

It’s Friday night. Mavis has decided that the in-tray on my bed is as good a place to settle for the moment as any. He doesn’t like being left alone all day & comes squealing to the door to express his feelings in the evening. He joined me on the bed last night & I didn’t have the heart to throw him off, although I warned him that if he started snoring, he’d get short shrift. I had to poke him in the ribs every so often but we both enjoyed a reasonable night’s sleep. He’d left most of his biscuits in his bowl when I arrived home this evening. But they disappeared soon after, together with the cat goo I added to them.

My week is over. I can hardly believe that I will be on a plane to Canada this time tomorrow, preparing to land in fact. Hell but it’s been a busy week. I cycled home in the dark & freezing drizzle tonight, glasses misted over, taking extra care not to be run over by the crazies trying to bust the land-speed record in spite of the conditions. When I left this morning it was sunny & cold; by mid-afternoon the large panes of glass in the office were dotted with rain & it’s continued ever since. It’s nothing mind you, compared to the downpours that Jones has been coping with these past two days. The wet weather arrived with a two new guests 2 days ago & seems set to persist at least until Sunday. Jones has got in a load of firewood on the sound basis that there’s nothing as cheery as a fire in the grate when it’s pissing down outside.

I spent half an hour with a colleague trying to arrange a complicated swap today so that I can slip down to Portugal next month. Happily, I succeeded, for I’d already booked the flight. I’d had to make an early booking to secure a cheap ticket, preferring to forfeit the ticket rather than paid the full fare. Eddie Vanko, the decorator who does lots of work for me, will be down there at the same time & we’ve half a mind to try to insulate the roof of Casa 3. Judging by Jones’s tales of the water pouring in, it’s going to be a case of the sooner the better.

I have handed the seeking of tenants for my recently-renewed flat over to agents who will charge the owner a huge whack for the task. But that’s too bad. There’s only so many hours in each day and mine have been filled to the brim. I know that this is true of several of you as well. I don’t mind going flat out for a time, with the promise of a week here or a week there to catch my breath. But I don’t want to continue in this fashion for the foreseeable future. It’s the irony of the age that the people who have the time don’t have the financial resources to enjoy it, and vice versa. I shall have to work a chapter on this dilemma into my bedside Godbook. Sadly, this tome has made no progress these past several years, other than being used as an occasional prop.

Please do no suppose that I am complaining or indulging in self pity. Nothing could be further from my mind. I suppose there are those who might consider a trip to Germany, a visit to France, a jaunt to Belgium, an excursion to Portugal & a holiday in Canada in the course of three months good going, especially with more jaunts already on the books. It hasn’t been a bad old year. It’s just that I resent having to work so hard to earn the necessary cash to finance these expeditions and am determined to return as an heir in my next incarnation.

Love you lots, see you soon!