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Week Eight, Day One
The day began with Ailz's mother ringing to ask her to do things for them- and Ailz's father weeping and dying in the background. He was sarky with her at the weekend and I am- if anything- even less fond of him than usual. By the end of the day the guys had emptied the backyard of junk and Harry the joiner- the quiet spoken older man who has been wanting to sell me a second-hand video screen- had hung a couple of internal doors and become the third person thus far to work on the kitchen units.
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What a topsy turvey house you're living in. I do hope it speeds along a bit.
xx
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