I'm ill! Well, not that ill, but ill enough to warrant a day off yesterday. I didn't feel able to make the ride in, and so reasoned I was insufficiently well to justify going in at all. I'd simply be doing the germs' work for them. No, instead I stayed at home.
Sickies, as I'm sure I've pointed out before, are a rarity for me. I don't get ill much and even when I do, I don't like poncing around at home. I've far too much residual Catholic guilt to enjoy that. So I always make a point of doing something constructive with my time at home. Yesterday, I shielded the control cavity of a 1974 Stratocaster. This is the perfect pastime for am ailing man. I was able to work from the dining table in the kitchen, nice and close to the radiator. It took me about 5 hours to complete the task, during which time I estimate I drank a little over an imperial gallon of tea.
It was lovely being at home. It was a sunny day, so I was able to stare at the garden during tea breaks. I know it betrays a certain lack of drive and ambition, but I'd love to be retired. Pottering around all day, drinking tea and eating Jaffa Cakes? Yes, please. The Rev. Sydney Smith once averred that we should all do what life intended for us. He's quite right. Some of us are cast in the role of earnest office Johnnie. I am not. I pottered, drink tea and think great thoughts. I just need to a European monarch to put me on a generous retainer as his or her court philosopher in order that I might have sufficient funds for nibbles and treats etc., and I'll get on with head-scratching.
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