Where to start? Well, I’m still trying to sort out my bed, and as the headboard came last week for my new four-foot wide one I thought it was time to change the bedding. My “old” bed was king-size and the one I have just sold was fine with single-sized items, but the new bed is in desperate need of sheets and duvet which will fit. There have been sniggers about the height of it (it’s a divan with drawers underneath) and do I need a ladder to climb up plus well tucked-in sheets to stop me falling onto the floor? Well, I have the latter, but trying to tuck a seven-foot wide sheet under a ten-inch mattress, and negotiating a duvet which hits the deck and tries to trip me up daily, are hazards I can do without at my age.
The sheets will have to wait until I can find some pale green ones (must have the decor right, you know) but across the road we have a market with a useful chap selling all kinds of bedding: I’ve already bought a mattress cover which fits a treat. Like the elusive man on the staircase, he wasn’t there the day before yesterday or the one before for that matter (he’d gone away), but yesterday he’d promised to bring one for me, dear fellow. Only he forgot, so it’s just as well I didn’t cart my old one to the Oxfam shop where they vowed to send it to Africa. Personally I would have thought it was hot enough in Africa not to need one, but what do I know? Anyway, today I have a new duvet. Even then, the transaction had a glitch, and at first I was required to cough up £22,095 for it which I thought was a bit expensive, but in entire keeping with my life here which, as you all know, never runs smoothly.
I’m not the only one. Our front door, known by the Company as the Shoppers Door since it is the direct route into town, has been out of commission for three weeks now despite all efforts to stop it from opening and shutting when nobody is there: I’m wondering if my poltergeist has something to do with that.
Last Friday a silent, swift-moving man came to try his skill on it and seemed to be getting results, but after two hours or so the big red chair was back in place, a warning that his magic hadn’t worked and we must still trudge a couple of hundred yards around the building. As for me, I am on the ground floor, so could in theory go straight in and out - but the grass is soggy. Otherwise, I was thinking of charging a modest fee to residents for the use of my door. They would have to bring their slippers of course: I can’t have peple traipsing in with mud on their shoes, can I?
Here’s hoping that 2016 will bring better news. Meanwhile, I wish all my readers a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, and I’ll be in touch again in a couple of weeks.