I have good news for those of you who actually read this drivel. My school finishes for Easter tomorrow and we are off to Skye for Jen’s wedding. So far, I know, the good news is currently restricted to C and I. But, what it does mean is that instead of my recent splurge of nonsense about not a great deal, at least those of you heading to The Wanderlings should get some decent photos with a back story that’s more fun than me moaning about how tough my life is trying to teach 12 year-old. (It is tough, BTW.)
What’s happened since Sunday? Well, not a lot. Oh, yes, we smashed up our sofa. That is we smashed up Jen’s old sofa. We had previously ordered a new sofa and foot stool from Next. It was a painful process: C choosing the one we wanted (I pick my words carefully) and then me signing away an appropriately large wodge of cash. Actually we went for their interest-free credit option, but as we’ve been homeless for 3.5 years we weren’t allowed on the scheme. We used to have the same problem when I was serving in the Army. It’s all about living in a home that you own for long enough. And, apparently, killing the Queen’s enemy is not a good enough reason on its own for someone to give you credit.
Anyhow, with the new sofa due to be delivered on return from Skye we had the old one to get rid off. British Heart Foundation (who will collect furniture for free) will not pick up a tatty old sofa that’s had one corner ripped to shreds by a cat. And the council charge £25 to pick one up – which is not an issue and a mere trifle in comparison to the Next bill, but it would mean leaving the sofa either in the garage (no thanks – we’ve just emptied a whole load of stuff), or stick it round the back and cover it with a tarp – like it had been fly-tipped. Option 3, C’s idea, was to break it into bits, stick it in the car and take it down the dump.
Two hours later and with 2 terms of latent ‘teaching young student’ frustration exhausted by hitting things with a large hammer and chopping things with a saw, we were sofaless. Hurrah!
Anyhow, the next small hurdle is packing Doris whilst remembering not to forget any wedding paraphernalia. Oh, that’s C’s job. I’m still teaching the blighters tomorrow.
I think that’s enough from me. I look forward to penning something from Scotland on Sunday. Hurrah!