Washday Tuesday

It's been a routine sort of day. Last night's omelette rather defied me in terms of staying together; maybe I should practice more. It would have been easier to keep it together if I'd used six eggs, but three apiece feels a bit too indulgent, never mind the dietary issues.

This morning saw me take a brisk walk into the village to draw cash and to buy a cucumber, one of the few regular items we can't get in the marina. I realised as I strode down the road that we now rarely actually leave the confines of Mercia except to go to Derby. It was (and continues to be) a bright day but with a boisterously chilly wind. There's some hope of seriously milder weather before the end of the week.

The Co-op's ATM machine is now functioning, though it's still the elderly model from the old store. Furthermore, it's been installed in a south facing wall, as it was in its former location. This means that on a sunny day you have to hunch over it in solitary colloquy in order to read the display. It took me through all the stages of withdrawing cash, then smugly announced that it couldn't oblige today and returned my card.

Apparently, it's always empty at the end of the month. Since I hadn't any cash on me, I ended up paying for a cucumber and a couple of pots of sandwich filler (the Co-op does good sandwich filler) with a credit card.

I tootled round to the Post Office, where at least they always have money, and drew the needful there.

Meanwhile, Sheila had been getting on with the laundry. After lunch, we took a walk round the marina, calling in at the office for a replacement electric card, I having used the one we had earlier in the day to ensure a continuing supply of juice to the washing machine.

Back at the boat, we've been loafing since. I'll get more exercise later, it being Tuesday and Sally perambulation day.