A very happy St George’s Day to all English people everywhere and for that matter all the other nations that claim him as their patron saint. It would be the day to fly the flag of St George if only my Mistress could remember exactly where she has put it. I said ‘Try the loft’ but she said I had to be joking they had put so much stuff up there that it would never come to light. She thinks it might be under the stairs but I’m not sure she feels inclined to search it out.
At long last we don’t have a spare washing machine as an island in the middle of the kitchen. My Master managed to borrow a set of wheels to move it and it was ceremonially wheeled out of the front door, down the slope and round to the garage, where it is to make its home until it is needed. The way these things go, it will never be needed, but had we got rid of it you could have been certain that the one we are using would have broken down immediately and been too hard to repair. That is the way all these things go. The other exciting news is that the skip and possibly even the port-a-loo are to be taken away today. It does mean the remaining men will need to come inside to use the toilet, but it’s better than the jokes about our ‘en-suite’ in the front garden.
Perhaps the most exciting thing from our point of view is that the rest of the grass is being done tomorrow which will make it a lot more pleasant underfoot. It does mean we may have to keep off it while it tries to grow and that my Mistress will need to water it if it stays dry, but these are minor inconveniences compared with the current state of affairs.