Left out in the rain

More rain

First thing: scaffold, drizzle.

Office: less than thirty minutes.

Industrial estate: light rain.

Office: not long enough to write up first thing and industrial estate.

Broken fire escape and balcony (dangerous, legacy from former colleague (LFC)). Rain.

Tiling after window replacement works (LFC). Inside. Dry.

Office and final account negotiations (LFC). Inside. Dry.

Scaffold (can it be removed?) and mastic works (LFC). Rain + climbing.

Scaffold (can it be removed?) and bay roof repairs (LFC). Rain + climbing.

Wet. Tired. Being chased. Tired of being chased. Tired of being wet and chased, and feeling cold and wet in June.

On being chased…

…I notice how some of those who chase the hardest, and are the most unforgiving, are the very same that take an age to answer if you have something urgent for them to respond to, and are the first in the forgive me line when they feel the need to queue at that particular checkout.

They seem to be multiplying at an alarming rate, too.

The Barmy Army opening hours…

…you’d imagine to be something like one in the morning to five in the morning, then a long siesta before the start of play, then (between overs / songs / beers) unreliably from eleven-ish to six-ish / seven-ish, depending on the state of play and the state of the Barmy Army.

Nothing like it. Nine to five. Strict office hours.

Son, be a car mechanic

Service? £320. Resale value? About £700 (tops). Resale value if not running? About zero. Cars? Not the soundest economic investment available, are they?