Clare is attending the cricket in Taunton today with my brother (South Africa are playing a two-day warm-up against Somerset). I figure it's good they should spend some time together as if I died he would have to bring her into his household and provide for her. Gotta love those traditions.
In her absence I have been swept into unaccustomed activity. So far today I have:
- Installed the new ten-year smoke alarm
- Taken the old alarm plus sundry printer cartridges, batteries and garden waste to the dump
- Washed Clare's car
After dealing with my correspondence and such time-wasting displacement activities as writing this I have to:
- Pay some cheques in at the bank in town
- Do some shopping
- Mow the lawn (except it's too wet)
- Pin out the towels from the washing machine (it's too wet)
- Finish my re-read of Frank Close's book on the theory of the Higgs (see previous post at the end).
If Clare was here I'd probably be slumped in front of the TV. What's the psychology of that?
