So, the plan was simple. Drop Kathryn off at work, get materials for eggnog and cookies, pop to bocabar for a nice cup of tea / coffee (and a cake) and some warm-not-in-our-room-time, head home, chill out for a bit, collect Kathryn, make stuff, bed.
The plan didn’t quite work out:
Drop Kathryn off at work (this went okay), get to Sainsbury’s – struggle because it’s not the store I ‘know’ and everything is in a different place. Eventually discover they have neither the right containers for eggnog travel holdation, nor full-fat-lactose-free-milk. Put back stuff I’d collected, and basket, make way out to car. Fight way out of car park.
Drive to Tesco, say ‘sod it’ and buy best available containers. Walk up-and-down the aisles looking for things because the big overhead banner things that say 18: Cheese, Goats, Alchemy Supplies don’t actually tally into the shelves, and it takes me a while to notice that in fact, baking ingredients are under ‘Cat Scratchers’ or some equally helpful marker. Find eggs. This takes some time, because they are – as usual – in their own special ‘egg zone’ far away from anything which might be considered related to egg usage. Assemble, from the many broken shards, a box that’s not covered in leaked egg, and a set of eggs which aren’t broken. Make way to tills, woman can’t get the ‘collar’ off the Rum bottle. She resorts to hitting it on the desk. Thankfully, the clip gives up before the bottle does.
Queue for petrol.
As usual when attempting to ‘fill’ the minor, get petrol over the back of Rebecca, and have to then wipe the car down*. Then I had the genius idea that I’d reconnect the fresh air hose – having covered her grille with cardboard she’s now actually almost, but not quite, reaching operating temperature (seriously, there’s a 4″ wide gap of radiator visible, and that keeps the engine temperature down to 75-80ish, the thermostat’s never opening**). This does, actually, appear to have had the desired effect that the air forced through the heater’s rattled along between the radiator and the air-dam (or cardboard sheet) first and so is pre-warmed a bit before hitting the heater, thus producing a warmer car interior. Putting it on ‘recirculate’ (or disconnecting the fresh air hose) has resulted, so far, in a car that’s quite warm right next to the heater, and cold everywhere else.
So, I think to myself, might as well give the Bocabar a go. Drive past, the place is visibly rammed full of people. Don’t think my social skills are up to it***, go home hoping that our landlord might have lit the fire and I could sit down there being a bit sociable and working on my course.
Get home, it’s the usual frigid temperature. Go and hide in room.
I’d never really understood the phrase ‘stir crazy’ but I’m beginning to get it. I can’t stand the sight of these 4 (well, 8) walls anymore. My moods have been insanely labile recently****, and right now I’m tired and want to quietly curl up for a bit. But I really should do some more course work, because I’ve done very little so far today.
So yeah. Best laid plans. etc.
* Modern pumps and Rebecca’s straight fuel filler neck don’t mix. Allowing it to ‘autostop’ normally involves a large amount of petrol on the floor, the back of the car and me. I normally just guestimate the amount I need and don’t fill her right up – but due to the multiple bank-holiday thing approaching and my need to get to work I felt it might be sensible to start with a *really* full tank.
** 90 Degree stat, y’know.
*** Shy+++, Tired and not feeling my best – a bar full of people? Meh, wish I could but unless I have to I’m not going to try and face that :-/
**** Despite things at work being better, I think the house and such is still getting the best of me.
